Puppy Love: All Characters Inclusive
by Last Wind
Summary: A series of consecutive short stories from multiple different perspectives Post-Season 3. Some Naga but will vary. New Chapter Up
1. Chapter 1

**I'm so sorry guys, I've been away from my account for a while now. Have absolutely no idea how it happened but somehow I must've deleted this story.**

**Thankfully, there's the recover option. **

**Sorry again, my bad! **

They kept coming every day.

Strangers with sad eyes. Their soft hands on little boxes tied with string which they placed on the steps alongside with all the others. Every day the pile grew as they brought scented leaves and foods, paper with scribbles. They followed a pattern; come to the island, stop at the steps leading to her home, place their gifts, mutter words to the tall bald man, and then silently drift away back to the floating rafts they came on.

On lazy days Naga watched all this with a certain boredom. Eyes barely brushed over the crowds that came and went away. She didn't understand why suddenly so many people were interested in taking the long trip to her home.

Naga growled at a man when he ventured too close to her perch in front of the double doors leading into the women's dormitories. He jumped, almost dropping the small basket of foodstuff he'd brought to the pile. The bald man, who was standing nearby sighed and reassured the man that the 'polarbeardog' was perfectly harmless. Naga listlessly glanced at him. Then, for added effect, she grinned at the man fully aware that it would look like another snarl.

The newcomer quickly left his gift and shuddered away, but not without glancing behind at the animal keenly watching his back.

Something flashed, a nasally voice interrupted Naga's peace. She heard a shout and Naga followed the sound.

"Where is the Avatar?" There it was again. A reporter with one of the flashy contraptions was yelling at the bald man, "Councilman Tenzin, how long can you keep the world in the dark?" the voice continued. Every word pestered Naga's ears.

She rose to her paws and shook.

"Avatar Korra is fine," Tenzin—what a strange name for a human—said tiredly, "We will make a formal statement soon."

"Why not now?" The annoying man said. Naga slowly drifted beside the tall air bender and sat on her haunches to his left. Tenzin smiled at her kindly, conveying a silent message whether he had intended to or not.

Naga always understood.

Before the reporter could ask another question she barked at him and watched with a thin smile as the man fell onto his butt and scampered back in terror.

She would remember that when she went to sleep. The image of the one who created such an irritating sound from his throat scuttling away like he'd seen a ghost. Well, that or a giant white polar bear.

She glanced at Tenzin and wagged her tail. His only response was a slight nod in her direction. A treat would have been nice but Naga wasn't picky, then he folded his hands together at his back and left the scene before another reporter came with the same questions. Naga followed close at his heels, already suspecting where the bald man was headed.

Thankfully, her suspicions were correct, and soon the pair found themselves at the doorstep of a small area in the back of the temple island.

Tenzin knocked on the door softly. It slid open, and Naga met the tall boy with the giant crooked eyebrows. She licked him happily and the boy chuckled but steadily pushed her back, overwhelmed by her sheer size and desperate to keep dog slobber out of his already slick hair. Then he turned to the air bender and the smile slid from his face only to be replaced with a somber frown.

"How is she?" Tenzin said in a low voice, careful not to disrupt the silence of the room. Naga tried looking past the haggard Mako boy but he was blocking the entrance and didn't seem to want to move.

"We don't know," Mako admitted, running a hand through his hair. "She's been trying to sleep for a few hours and hasn't spoken since the last session." He stopped and lowered his head. Naga nudged him, she wanted to get inside, but he merely pat her head and didn't move.

"What did my mother say?"

"That it would take time," crooked brow said. "But it's been days… Tenzin, I—."

The air bender put a hand on his shoulder, stopping his words, "We need to be patient."

Naga glanced between the two of them. She needed to get into that room, why wouldn't they let her through?

"I know," Mako said. Naga shoved her nose into his side and he gently pushed her back. "I'm sorry girl, not today."

Not today? She hadn't been allowed in a week. At first she had taken to sleeping in the courtyard at night, but she didn't like the temporary bed they'd made for her. She knew where she wanted to be, and it was not lying on the corner outside while her person slept alone. Naga didn't know what they were talking about, just that they were standing in her way once again. And she had not seen Korra since the day she left.

Naga remembered that night; her friend had pet her for a long while, then hugged her tight and whispered into her fur. She had stayed with her until the blunt lady with the double scar came and said it was time to go. Her person had smiled sadly, then hugged her one last time before disappearing on the flying boat. Naga wanted to ask, understand why she was sad but the best she could do was lick goodbye and wait to see her again.

Then the floating ship returned and Naga rushed to meet her. Except the fire bender boy and the bald man simply pushed her away and told her to wait—that she would do more harm than good. Naga didn't understand but she had felt something was wrong.

She nudged Mako again. This time pushing him backwards. He grunted and muttered something but Naga ignored him and, much to his chagrin, dodged past him and into the room. There was shouting behind. Tenzin ordering her to leave the room but she had no reason to listen. Naga bounded to the bed where she always slept beside her friend and stopped just as the Asami girl stood and uttered hushed words in her direction. The girl looked terrified, Naga knew she had that effect on people. Except just not from those closest to her friend. They usually welcomed her, but today they all seemed to want her to leave.

When Naga finally saw the figure in the bed she thought she finally understood.

She sat and sniffed her friend's hand. Waiting for a moment, she half expected the hand to twitch and brush her fur as it always had, but instead it remained still. She licked it, nothing.

"Naga," Asami said softly. A cold hand touched her back. She didn't want others to touch her, only the hand that belonged to her friend had that right at this moment. Yet it lay flat on the sheets, body tucked quietly into the bed and head turned away from her. Motionless.

Naga placed a paw on the bed. It shifted under her weight. The motion seemed to stir the young woman resting, however, and she slowly turned her head to greet the one who had caused it. Her eyes widened slightly and the smallest smile Naga had ever seen donned her face.

"Hey," the fingers twitched and her brow furrowed with the effort of speech. "Hey, girl."

Naga panted excitedly. She lifted her paw from the bed and lowered her neck onto the covers so that her nose rested lightly against Korra's. Then she shifted and Korra closed her eyes, still smiling.

"Where've you been?" she croaked out. "I missed you."

Naga didn't want to ruin the moment by growling at the two men standing by the door. If she'd had her way there wouldn't have been one second lost. Instead she settled on softly licking the girl's cheek. It was disconcerting how she barely moved in response but Naga wasn't deterred.

Of course a human had to interrupt.

"She cannot be in here!" a new voice. A woman's, high pitched and whiny. Naga huffed as the foreign healer rushed beside her and shooed at her with two hands. "Go away doggy."

Thankfully, the Mako boy sent the woman away quickly while reassuring that it was only for a few minutes. But Naga weighed more than all three of them combined, and she had no intention of leaving.

The others seemed to recognize this and bald man sighed in surrender. He said something to Asami, and she nodded then pulled her seat next to Naga. After a minute everyone but those gathered around the bed left and Naga was alone with the girl who wore a little too much perfume for her liking and Korra.

For her part, Korra still lay with her eyes closed, forehead brushed against the side of Naga's. Naga felt Asami's eyes on them, then turned to watch as the woman slowly lifted Korra's immobile hand and placed it on the soft fur lining of the polar bear's next. She heard Korra breathe a sigh of relief and Asami smiled.

Then Naga felt soft, warm fingers curl into her and she nestled closer without disturbing her friends' tranquil position.

They lay/sat like that for some time until Naga finally heard the sound of even breathing from the worn out figure on the bed. Asami stood and quietly whispered to Naga that she would return soon. Naga didn't respond, she was content with just the feel of the still hand on her fur.

This was not the first time Naga waited like this. She had spent many nights dutifully sleeping at her friend's side after big fights; waiting for a smile, a word, or a hug. Just like when she was a puppy. She had slept next to the young girl and snuggled into her side no matter what others said or wanted. They were a pair, no one could say otherwise.

All she knew was that Korra wanted this. As for her, Naga wouldn't want to be anywhere else either.


	2. Ceremony

The Ceremony

**Korra Perspective. Don't own LOK. I apologize ahead if there are errors, written while sleepy. Worst combo ever.**

The wind slowly swirled around the width of the ceiling as it brushed through the chimes. Not a single gaze wasn't directed at either Jinora or the great gusts of scented air that pulled in and mesmerized the eye. The scene was so perfect in its detail, every hand motion destined for a beautiful twist in the morphing drafts, directing, soothing. Of course, the significance wasn't lost on a single mind present either; never would such a display even have been possible just a few months before. The ceremony, the wind, the tattoos, this was all a sign of change for the better; a renewal and revision of cultural practices and peoples that would last for generations.

Then, to perfect it all, Tenzin had just affirmed that this fledgling group would act in service of the world and restore balance.

But what was balance, really?

Korra had repeated this question in her mind countless times but she never found resolution. Tenzin had told her once what he thought, albeit in a vague way. Balance was balance, and the Avatar was responsible for maintaining everything which this notion entailed. Asides from that, well, no one could give a better answer.

At first Korra had thought peace, balance, the two were intertwined. This was something that made perfect sense. If there is to be peace, then there must first be a weighed equilibrium in the states of the world. Everything she had been taught led up to that; peace was a result of order. It couldn't exist in a violent and deconstructive state. Held hidden within the walls of her icy compound, she'd spent years learning from those who thought as such.

Then she ran away to Republic City. After all, that was supposed to be the greatest symbol of peace that existed in the world; benders, non-benders, everyone living together in a relatively stable environment. She thought she understood what Aang had wanted, peace above all. The city was to be the first step in that direction.

But there were people who wanted to destroy it; a phantom in a mask that threatened all her predecessor's legacy. If balance was such a preordained truth then why could it be corrupted so easily?

She had invalidated the man who wore the mask of revolution, 'defeated' Vaatu, in all honesty, killed her uncle, barely fought off Zaheer… But there were nights when she still saw their faces, remembered their words too vividly, felt every blow like she was living them all again. Korra would wake in a panic and swear to anyone present at the time that they had failed. Yet, everyone, instead of affirming her terror filled beliefs, would calmly reassure her that she was mistaken.

They would hail her heroism, her _legendary_ actions.

How did they know? Did they spend their nights staring into nothing thinking about the same problems over and over again? As the Avatar, she had the autonomy to uproot everything they—she—ever believed in. All she needed were a few words and swingy hand motions in front of a podium and there would be at least a nation-wide subscription to her new 'philosophy'.

She fiddled with her hands, eager to hide the small tears that had formed minutes before. Thankfully, no one seemed to be looking at her—for the first time all morning—and they clapped, watching the new air bending master stand before them.

But who would give her that right, to try and manipulate the belief system of the world? She'd never wondered before, at least not until Amon, but she had quenched her concerns and stayed preoccupied with taking sides in a civil war. Then she was busy again, pushed to fulfill a 'duty' to the City once more.

It wasn't until the Red Lotus; until she met a man who forced her to question her own existence. Why did the world need an Avatar? She knew it didn't need the chaos he ascribed to, but specifically, why would it need her?

Maybe it didn't.

The crowd finally stopped clapping and Tenzin formally ended the tattooing ceremony, stating a few extra platitudes for the road.

Then people began to notice her again and lines of guests, people anxious to meet _the _Avatar, approached her from all sides. They offered their hands to shake, bowed, presented small gifts, some condolences, more often congratulations.

Korra wanted to scream, punch something, anything.

And still, to the world she wore the small smile that kindly accepted the words and embraces of strangers, despite being thoroughly exhausted in every possible way.

Well, she must not have been good at acting polite either, because at some point mid-conversation, she passed out. Her head fell to her chest just before eyes drooped into darkness.

Then someone was shaking her shoulders, frantic voices urging her to open her eyes, breathe, or do anything.

So she gradually regained consciousness and lazily drifted back to where she was before, in the temple.

"Korra," Tenzin was kneeling at her side, one hand rested lightly on her shoulder. There were deep lines of worry in his face. As her vision regained focus, eyes fell on a slew of other faces; some new, some her closest friends. They all stared at her with the same expression her air bending master now wore.

_Stop worrying, just stop._

Jinora was among them. Her new tattoos stood prominent against everyone else. She had her hands clasped together. No, all this was for her, the girl who deserved every bit a celebration, and Korra felt she just ruined it all.

"Dozed off," she said with as much humor as she could muster. Apparently it wasn't a lot, nobody even tried to smile.

"She needs to get out of here," Mako said softly to Tenzin. She noticed for the first time he was on the other side of her chair. It had been him who'd tried to wake her, she recognized the voice.

"I think that's for the best," Tenzin muttered, rubbing his temple to relieve pent up stress.

Korra lowered her gaze, overwhelmed by the sudden change of atmosphere. No one said a word as Mako wheeled her out of the crowd, away from the public eye. She loathed how a mob of strangers could be so horrified by the notion of a weak Avatar that seeing the truth set them speechless.

After a few minutes of silent walking, Mako led her to her room and stopped once inside.

"Do you want to lie down?" he said.

Korra shook her head, all she did was try to sleep these days. No, she wanted to do so many other things; walk on the beach, ride Naga, practice bending. She did not want to lie down. Her eyes caught on the air bending staff in the corner of the room. Dust lined its fine wood.

"Did I mess up?" she whispered.

"No, you're just tired. Talking to that council lady would have put me to sleep too," Mako pulled a chair in front of her and sat down. He hesitated for a moment and then seemed to decide on something. He took her hand in one of his and held it on her knee. She glanced at him with a frown but didn't pull away.

"I don't mean what just happened."

His eyes widened, "Zaheer?"

When did he become so perceptive? She thought for a moment about telling him; finally letting out the constant worry, the fear that the man might have been right. But she stopped herself. Mako looked almost as bad as she did right now as he worriedly ran his hands through his hair. There was no way she could make him suffer through the details.

"Nothing," she withdrew her hand from his.

She studied him for a moment, his face set in a hard line. In that moment he looked at her with the same frustrated eyes she'd only seen a few times—generally before she was headed towards some kind of lecture. He continued where she didn't.

"Whatever it is," he started, then forced his voice to lower and he looked her in the eye, "I can handle."

"I know," she said.

"Then why won't you—"

"Because you can, but you shouldn't. No one should."

Mako was silent for a moment, then she felt a hand on her knee.

"Then why do you?" his voice was soft, but held a certain authority that he rarely showed.

"I'm the Avatar."

"And?" he raised an eyebrow.

"And I can't make mistakes," she ran a hand over her face. "I can't…"

"Can't what?"

_Give up, be afraid, run, question, live, hope, walk, fight, decide. _Be the hope, they wanted that, but she couldn't.

"Be what they need."

"You're wrong," Mako shook his head. "You are what we have, what the world gets. It doesn't matter what they think they need, just what you do. And from what I know, you are exactly who you were supposed to be, because you've set that standard."

He gently placed a hand on the side of her neck and she leaned against it, closing her eyes. She was tired, so tired. Thankfully, Mako seemed to recognize this, and in moments she was out of the chair and lying on the bed once again, tucked under the blankets. He pulled his chair to the side and leaned his elbows on his knees. She felt the lull of sleep but looked at him one last time.

"I don't think I want balance," she muttered.

Mako didn't seem surprised, "It's not possible anyways. Life is crazy."

She nodded; crazy, chaotic, stupid, messed up. But it had its moments, like when out of the chaos there comes a small second of peace. An eye of stillness in the center of a windy torrent of storms that was living, that is being human. And those moments were magnified best in the confusion.

"You're probably right," she said, drifting off.

_But we'll deal with it later._


	3. The Sea

Senna's Perspective

**On request from writing4ever4God. Hope you enjoy! Really appreciate getting the feedback from everyone, it's very helpful. **

**(Don't own LOK... again)**

Korra sat in the courtyard twirling her fingers in small repetitive motions. Her eyes focused on a small blob of water which she circled around her hand. The technique that Korra was first attempting today but had yet to maintain for longer than a few minutes.

Senna watched from her seat on the steps as her daughter furrowed her brow and concentrated with every ounce of energy on not dropping the cool substance onto the white stone. And for a moment, Senna thought she might go longer than before. But too soon, the girl let out an exhausted sigh. Then the Avatar's trembling fingers clenched and water splashed to the ground.

It must have been frustrating, no, Senna knew it was more than just that for Korra—not being able to bend at even half her earlier level—it was infuriating, maddening even. Her daughter seldom spoken of it, but Senna understood without her having to say.

She saw it when the reporters came to the temple every day. Once informed of the situation, they had taken to constantly commenting on the supposed progress of the young water tribe girl. The entire city seemed to have joined together in a frenzy of fear and expectation. Everyone eagerly hopeful for a sudden miracle.

Sometimes even healers would come and offer their services claiming they knew just what to do, and at first Tenzin had allowed a few on the island. Except their grim reports would only spread back to those in the city and the expectations would rise to a mix of impatience and anger. Anger at _Korra_.

Of all things, Senna hated that the most. The world, everyone, was upset that her daughter wasn't better yet. There was too much pressure, and she couldn't keep her away from it all.

She remembered the first week, Tonraq had turned on the radio and some buffoon was brazen enough to blame her daughter for her own condition. The man had said the world didn't want a broken Avatar. That he sympathized but felt she needed to just "try harder". Of course, her husband had vehemently shut off the radio.

But not before they noticed Korra in the doorway.

She was sitting quietly in the wheel chair with her hands folded over one another, and they had moved quickly to reassure her that it was nothing, just a fool with a mike, but she merely shook her head and mumbled some reassurance, then left.

It didn't matter that people on the island constantly reminded her there was plenty of time to get back to how things once were. Plenty of time to heal. Senna knew Korra didn't ascribe to anything they said, no matter how true it may be.

They were just two weeks after defeating the Red Lotus and Korra was fighting another war.

It was the day after Jinora's ceremony, and Senna had already begun to see improvements. Being able to bend, if only to a limited degree, was an accomplishment they had rediscovered only a few days before, once Korra was strong enough. Still, it had given Senna hope and affirmed her conviction.

Senna broke from her musings as she noticed Korra did not attempt to continue with her bending. She slowly stood in response, evening out the smooth fabric of her dress. Then she approached her daughter and stopped at her side.

Senna knew Korra had noticed her, but did not respond to her mother's presence. Her eyes were glued to the vast ocean surrounding the island, the way it came and brushed over the rocks and sand.

In a way, Senna's were too.

"You know I spent most of my life watching these waters," she said, taking a seat on a bench nearby. "In the south, they look just as beautiful as these do here."

Korra was silent for a long while, then spoke, "I miss the glaciers, the ice."

"Me too," Senna sighed, eyes falling on the young girl whom she had seen endure so much. It wasn't fair, not her daughter, not like this. "Still, sometimes it's nice to get away from the cold."

Korra turned to her, "It makes you feel."

Senna frowned, "Feel?"

Her daughter slowly nodded, as if her words weighed a heavy load that Senna could not see, could never understand, "It's not like this—this city. The air is fresh, reminds you you're still alive_._"

"We could go home, if you like," Senna said. She didn't want to see the expression on the girl's face; a mixture of desolation and anguish that Senna felt she was, in part, responsible for. A parent's duty was to protect the child. Senna couldn't imagine the roles reversed. At least not the way Korra could. She was responsible for the world.

"Back to the compound?" Korra studied her for a moment and Senna felt she was being tested.

"No," she said firmly. "Home."

She saw the slightest relief flash across Korra's features but it faded away quickly, "I should stay here."

"You don't have to. In fact," Senna held her hands together, "some time away might be for the best."

Senna wouldn't say but she knew Korra understood. They needed to get away from all this, all the expectation. It would do them both some good. God knew Senna needed a break. Life in Republic City was so different from her little hut.

Korra didn't respond. She resumed gazing over the water.

"Honey," Senna started, but she found herself unable to continue. She had restrained from asking about her condition since Korra had first expressed a great dislike of being coddled. So she had stayed silent and watched over her daughter, trusting she would find her own way back as she always had.

But something nagged in Senna's mind; this time was different, Korra was different, and she had barely spoken a word to anyone as to why. Not her parents, not her air bending master, not even her friends whom Senna thought she confided everything. She supposed Naga would know, that was for sure, but the polar bear dog would never tell.

"Your father and I," she said, pushing her words further, "We're concerned."

Korra lowered her gaze to her hands and Senna felt as if her chest had been pierced through. The simple motion, a downward look, so heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time. Despite the threat of tears that formed in the corners of her eyes, Senna continued,

"Why won't you talk about what happened?" she was frightened by how soft her own voice sounded.

"I told you already," somehow Korra's was even softer. Senna's hands braced together tightly.

"Details, facts, yes," she said. "But thoughts, feelings? No. At least once—you need to try. Maybe it will help. Who knows?"

Korra glanced at her, frowning, "What will it help?" There was an edge to her inquiry, a subtle surge of emotion that she probably didn't even notice herself.

"You," Senna said.

"I'm not worried about that."

"Of course you are," Senna said, trying to hide her confusion. "Everyone is, whether they like to think they are or not." Korra didn't respond and Senna finally conceded, "Then what are you afraid of?"

At her words Senna had expected an outburst of indignation, to hear Korra say she was not afraid, never had been, never would be, because that was the girl she knew. The one who could suppress and push away her own doubts to become something bigger, someone stronger in so many ways. However, instead of resistance she was met with a flicker of recognition, a brief flash of something distant in her eyes that Korra had never shown before. Acceptance.

"That you, everyone, will be—," she stopped and her eyes widened. Mind was fighting heart, and Senna desperately prayed the heart would win. "That you won't understand."

_Afraid of having fears realized._

"Try me," she smiled and pulled in front of her daughter, kneeling at her level. She didn't encroach her space or try to embrace her. Korra was strong and the last thing Senna wanted was to tell her otherwise.

But all her efforts were met with a new resistance and, after allowing a brief, despairing glance into her world, the girl that was Korra disappeared behind a shield of towering walls. Senna saw the transition enough in her eyes; the way they lost their softness, their emotion, and turned over to a stagnant unapproachable glaze. The same glaze she had been wearing in front of so many for too long.

More than anything, Senna wanted to be behind those walls with her daughter, standing at her side and helping her escape them. Guiding her as she had when Korra was younger.

Except back then all she needed was to apply a bandage, heal a wound, hug or hum a soft lullaby to calm and soothe. No fear was so great that she couldn't send it away with something as simple as love. Senna used to believe that. That was until she was forced to watch powerlessly as the world steadily seeped fear into the place where that love should be. And Senna loathed the world, the spirits, anyone responsible, for permitting that to happen.

"You were right," Korra's voice. Hope sprung in Senna's chest. "The water is the same. Just as beautiful."

And all Senna could do was smile. She felt a tear run down her cheek and Korra silently took her hand into her own and squeezed lightly. Then the young Avatar returned her eyes to the ocean and Senna felt a bit of the load lift from her heart. She followed Korra's gaze and settled on the blue translucent colors of shifting tides.

The ocean, her daughter, both a vast force that took its own pace in reaching shore; thunderous or soft, didn't matter, just so long as the waves did finally brush through the sand once more.

And she knew they would, because they always had, and always will.


	4. Midnight Run

Midnight Ride

**Just couldn't stay away from writing Naga, hope you like it. Love getting Reviews!**

An ear flopped into the air and back again when Naga was awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of muffled wheezes.

She jumped to her paws quickly, searching out the sound.

Instinctively, she glanced out the small window opposite the bed, expecting to see the cruel air bender and water arms lady prone to strike with their evil dart things.

But she saw nothing; no shadowy faces hiding behind neatly cut away glass, and Naga realized the sounds weren't coming from outside, but rather from within—from the bed.

Korra was a bundle of blankets tightly wrapped over her shoulders, pulled up to her neck with clenched hands, and knees drawn tight to her chest. Her face screwed together in agony, brows furrowed, arms and legs trembled as her chest heaved up and down and she screamed into the cotton to dampen the sound. She didn't stop when Naga first lightly nudged her shoulder with a cold nose. Instead she cried out in pain, twisting on the bed, but quickly covered the sound again with the edge of her pillow.

Sweat lined her brow and dripped down the side of her face. Naga saw the tears that fell desperately from her eyes and was certain something had gone wrong.

Naga whimpered and padded her paws anxiously on the ground, she tried licking an arm to get Korra's attention, but she simply writhed in reply and clutched the sheets tighter over her body.

Suddenly, as she watched her friend gasp and struggle with some internal torture, Naga was at a complete loss. Every touch caused pain, every lick, a shudder. What was broken? A paw, maybe a leg? But Naga didn't see any injury.

So, for lack of doing anything better, Naga barked.

And she barked again, as loud as she ever had, the vibrations rose in her chest with every call. But when for excruciating minutes, no one came, her cries became desperate, mixing with those of her person as she wheezed into the covers. They increased and strengthened with the fear until she was howling as loud and powerfully as her massive lungs would allow.

She did not stop, not even when the first few humans rushed into the room. She howled as Korra's parents, crooked eyebrow boy, the perfume girl, bald man, and kind old lady, burst through the door and hurried to the side of the bed.

She howled as two of them held down her friend, keeping her from convulsing in the sheets, as the elderly healer rushed water over her shaking form, as the Mako boy paced the room, even as Korra cried and screamed, her pain no longer her own to silence. Naga howled and didn't stop until finally there was a relieved sigh and the water tribe woman loosed the water from her control, assuring everyone present that everything was fine, at least for now.

Naga ceased her cries when Korra's slowly ebbed away.

And then the polar bear dog shoved a path past the healer, between the small space open on the bedside and lowered her head to the sheets. Korra was awake now, tears steadily stilling to a stop, and their eyes connected. The girl turned away from her friends and family, away from all the concerned expressions, and dug half her face into the pillow, one eye on the large fluffy animal that returned her gaze as if she was the only person in the room.

And Korra was.

To Naga, she would always be the only one present, the first she'd run to and pounce in greeting, the first she'd look to for company, and the only person whom she would follow beside until there came a day when she could no longer stand or walk herself.

Bet even then, she would follow.

Much to Naga's joy, lips turned upwards into a weak smile, and a shaky hand brushed against her fur. Korra mouthed a silent 'thank you' and Naga calmly shut her eyes as Korra pet her head. Alarm was instantly replaced with overwhelming happiness.

While the room filled with people, everyone slowed to a peaceful hush as all eyes fell on Korra and her companion. Naga was glad, she had seen the humans fuss over her friend and she had figured out some time ago how much Korra hated it.

Then strong arms wrapped around her neck and Naga smelled water and sea salt as Tonraq, chief man, embraced her. She licked his face and he chuckled, partly from a liberation of stored anxiety.

"You did good, girl," he muttered into the soft fur. Then he released her and turned back to his daughter, taking a hand in one of his own.

"What happened?" someone asked.

Naga didn't care what it was, just that it was over. She heard a few scattered words in response.

"Stress… poison," a woman said. "Nerve damage… psychological."

Naga perked up and glanced at the speaker, kind old lady, and frowned. Humans were silly, there's no such thing as mental pain. This had been very real. Why did they insist on making everything so complicated?

Then someone was talking about sleep, and the humans dispersed. Only two stayed behind, Naga and crooked eyebrow boy. Naga absentmindedly watched as he ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to the bed. He said something to Korra but she didn't respond, she was still watching Naga—hadn't moved since the bout ended.

He inhaled a deep breath and dropped his head into his hands. Naga studied him, confounded by the worried features. Why did he sigh? Healer lady had said everything was all right.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry, so sorry—." Then he was crying.

And Naga was thoroughly confused.

But when she looked at Korra again, she could see a similar emotion. Not pain, not anguish or fear, but something else. A confounding, overpowering sentiment that made tears spring anew in her eyes. Naga licked her face and Korra smiled but the tears continued. Not sad… then what?

Neither moved to comfort the other. Instead the Mako boy and Korra cried together in silence and all Naga could do was watch and wait for them to finish.

She was right, humans made absolutely no sense.

As time passed the room grew quiet again and, though he didn't mean to, Mako fell asleep; head on his forearms over the bed sheets. Meanwhile Korra stayed awake until he began snoring softly. She slowly turned onto her side and glanced at the boy, checking to make certain.

Naga quickly stood as Korra pulled her back from the bed and into a sitting position with great effort.

She didn't question as the girl grunted and slid her legs over the side, brushed them against the floor. Korra cast a last, long glance in Mako's direction, then motioned for Naga to come closer.

"Naga, let's go for a ride," she whispered. Her voice sounded exhausted, but there was a rebellious lightness to it which made Naga's heart soar. It reminded her of the nights when they would sneak out of the ice compound. Naga had always loved the excitement, how Korra would hush her barks and then they'd walk past the guards and laugh every time about how easily they'd done it. There was nothing like the feeling of leaving the compound and venturing into the open air, running free over the snow. Sometimes Naga longed for that; the rush of earth beneath her paws, the pounding of a racing heart in her chest, and the constant weight of the strong woman riding alongside her. Still, it had been a while since that had been possible. For whatever reason, Korra hadn't been allowed to ride with her for weeks.

Then again, there weren't rules that stopped them this time.

After a few minutes of struggling, Korra's shoulders slumped forward and she dug her nails into the fabric of her pants.

"Well," she said softly. Naga realized she had given up on rising to her feet. Since when did Korra ever give up? "Didn't mean to get you excited, girl. Maybe we shouldn't tonight."

Naga huffed and nudged her in the shoulder.

"I know," she whispered, petting her in long strokes. "We'll go later."

_Later?_ What was so special about later? Nothing, there was only now.

She pushed her nose under Korra's arm and pulled upward and, before Korra could even be surprised by the sudden motion, Naga yanked her to her feet.

Immediately, Korra slumped forward with a pained grunt, but Naga caught her and she fell flat against the polar bear's side—still standing. For a moment the water tribe girl breathed heavily, almost gasped against Naga's body, as she struggled to stay upright. Then she shut her eyes and lifted an arm over one of Naga's strong shoulders.

"When did you get so bossy?" she said with a tired grin.

Naga simply panted happily. Then she dug her nose into Korra's side and she groaned, conceding.

Korra didn't have to ask for Naga to do anything; instantly, she lowered to a lying position and Korra clambered over her, using all her upper arm strength, until she was sitting on the dog's back and her chest lay on Naga's shoulders. Her once sturdy arms wrapped weakly around her neck and Naga shot her a look, offering a silent warning. Korra nodded.

Then Naga stood and Korra lifted into the air; above the mattress with disturbed sheets, above the height of the steel wheel chair.

She floated above it all.

Naga's heart pounded in her ears, she could feel her rider's heartbeat as she lay against her, and they matched together, beat together. She felt Korra bury her face into the soft lining between her shoulder blades and head, and she understood. In seconds they were out of the room, out of the dormitories, and riding into the open air.

The moon was out and cool air brushed through her fur while Naga trotted happily, keeping an even pace so as not to jostle the girl on her shoulders. Still, Korra didn't seem to want just that.

"Naga," Korra said, her voice growing stronger with every step the animal took. "Naga, go!"

And Naga didn't need another word, she was off.

Gone were the stifling partitions of the icy compound, the thin walls of the temple, the steel bars of the chair, all that existed now was Korra and Naga. All that mattered was the air, how it whipped past them, how it braced against their skin in unison. Naga couldn't see but she could feel Korra's relief, almost hear the exhilarated grin that rose from rushing adrenaline.

They could only run the width of the island, but neither noticed nor cared.

To them, riding fast, beating over the cool stone pathways; this was the same freedom that came with miles of unrestricted, untrodden snow. And, after so long away, this was greater.

There was nothing greater in the world.

So Naga ran, to every corner of the island; past the ancient swinging gates, past the giant statue of little bald boy, over the rocky shores.

She ran until finally she grew tired and drew to a stop at a tall, wide tree.

She lowered, and Korra slid from her back landing unceremoniously on the ground. But where she once would have groaned in pain, the young girl laughed happily—a reassuring sound. Naga barked and snuggled around her, side against the tree. Korra leaned into her as she had so many times before.

Their hearts still beat as one.

Their breaths joined as one, both beyond the point of exhaustion.

But Naga had never felt more alive and, as Korra drifted into sleep beside her, she was certain her friend felt the same.

Let the humans fuss about things in the morning. They would find the pair sleeping outside and question it, may even be angered by Korra's disappearance from the room and the physical taxation, but Naga never had a mind for others.

She only saw her puppy, her friend.

The one whose weight Naga would gladly carry forever.


	5. Reassurance

Asami Perspective

**At a bit of a loss of understanding Asami's character, but here is an attempt. Thanks for reviewing!**

Asami barely slept that night.

Well she had been before, at least better than usual, but when she was awoken by Naga's piercing howls any chance of rest vanished into the air. At first she had thought the dog was bored, or saw a squirrel… or maybe finally succeeded in eating Pabu, but they had sounded so terrified, so desperate. And the animal's terror had filled her as if it were her own. She had rushed out of bed; ran to the room, to Naga, to Korra.

There was only ever one reason why Naga would make such a sound.

Her temporary room was close by, since she had taken to visiting the temple a couple times a week. She didn't live there permanently but Tenzin had offered her a room and had been grateful for the extra help. Especially over the last few weeks. For her part, Asami enjoyed the time away from work and with her friends who lived on the temple.

But there were times when joy froze over and the calm nights were instead filled with a certain pervading panic and dread. Nights like tonight.

Asami shut her eyes and shifted under the covers, pushing away the branding memory; Korra screaming and shaking on the cool covers like she was dying, her father and Tenzin holding her down with all their strength, Senna pushed to uninhibited tears but still standing at the bedside offering a silent comfort which Korra couldn't accept. And Mako, Asami had seen that look only a few times. He was on the verge of breaking.

Maybe they all were.

Still, Asami knew that was their own fault. Korra hadn't had an episode in days, so they had grown complacent and believed the worst was over, but then she did, and that false peace was shattered. They wanted to believe that it was just a nightmare, as they'd first thought. They wanted to see her wave it off, the pain, everything. Except she didn't, and soon they were forced to accept that the poison was still having an effect and the physical repercussions wouldn't just subside because they'd like them to.

Asami hated watching, but she found herself unable to leave. There was always a part of her that fought her own anguish and forced herself to stand by her friend, compelled her to be there no matter how horrifying it became. Asides from her own parents, Mako and Asami had stayed with Korra the longest, and both had seen their fair share. They confided in each other; Mako occasionally spoke to her about how he was always afraid, expecting something to happen.

_'__I keep thinking that one day I'll wake up,'_ he'd said a few nights earlier, the night of Jinora's ceremony. He had sighed and diverted his eyes, _'that I'll wake up and she'll be gone.'_ Then he lifted his eyes and Asami felt she couldn't speak, his voice had been so broken, _'and I couldn't live with that.'_

She didn't bring herself to tell him there was nothing either of them could do about it. He already knew that.

Hours passed and Asami stared at the ceiling, frowning. Is this what Korra did? Asami knew she had trouble sleeping, that Korra would lie when Asami came to visit in the morning, but she would never fight her on it; that wasn't for lack of trying. Still, she couldn't help but furtively glance every now and then at the deep circles under the Avatar's eyes. They seemed to grow larger every day to the point where no amount of make-up could cover.

Asami had asked her once what kept her awake, why she was always exhausted, but Korra simply said she didn't feel good. That the pain kept her up. So they gave sleeping medication, and she would dream, but never seemed to actually rest. One of the healers said they were just lucky she was still eating. If not, well, then there wouldn't have been an Avatar to worry about.

Morning peaked over the window and Asami sighed, sitting up tiredly.

She was just about to get ready and check on Korra again when someone knocked frantically at her door. Asami jumped and the knocks grew faster, she quickly unlocked the latch. Mako—clothes wrinkled and hair sticking out in odd places—burst through. He scanned the room and then growled in frustration.

"What is it?" Asami said. She thought he had chosen to run the night shift.

"Where's Korra?" he replied.

"In her room, why?"

Mako shook his head furiously, "No, I fell asleep—I shouldn't have, but then when I woke up she wasn't there, but the chair still is. She's gone!"

Asami tried to contain her alarm, Mako had enough for the both of them. Instead she swiftly pulled a jacket over her nightclothes and rushed to the door.

"Go wake Tenzin," she said.

Mako nodded then stopped at the door, "What if they somehow…?"

_The Red Lotus_, Asami had no idea, but she couldn't think about that.

"Just go, I'll meet you outside."

Then they separated, each running down the long corridors of the temple's paper walls.

Asami hurried to the courtyard and looked in either direction, nothing. Her hands clenched tightly and she held down the panic as it rose in her chest. Korra couldn't just walk out, she was nowhere near strong enough. Yet, somehow she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Then Asami had a thought, where was Naga?

She tried calling out for the polar bear dog, but there was no response. Asami heard someone calling her from behind and Tenzin suddenly appeared, followed closely by the young fire bender.

"Did you find anything?" he said, concern etched into his features. Asami shook her head.

"Should we wake her parents?"

Tenzin thought for a moment, "No, we'll give it a few minutes. I do not want to alarm them again so soon."

So they searched, each one crying out for the Avatar or her polar bear companion, hoping one would answer. After a few minutes, Tenzin looked almost as bad as Mako and he anxiously ran a hand over his shaved head.

"I will inform the white lotus," he said, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"Over here!" Mako shouted from the other side of a large granite temple wall. Tenzin and Asami exchanged a glance then they followed Mako's voice to the small garden hidden in between two structures.

In the far back, by a large tree, they found them.

Asami breathed a sigh of relief and she put a hand on Mako's shoulder. He smiled.

Tenzin silently approached the duo, and sat on the ground beside the young girl curled with her back into Naga's fur. An ear flopped and Naga lifted her head to stare at them with a happy grin. Then she placed it next to Korra's. Tenzin studied them for a moment and pulled his light robe from his shoulders, draping it like a blanket over the smaller of the two.

"She's actually asleep," Tenzin said softly. His eyes were wide but they softened into an appreciative gaze in Naga's direction. He slowly lifted a hand to pet her haunches. "I can't believe it. What did you do?"

In all her life, Asami had never seen the composed air bending master, who was responsible for running an entire nation, attempt to hold a conversation with Naga, the 'polar bear dog'.

But in that moment, he did, and if a simple look could speak human words, Naga certainly reciprocated.

They decided against disturbing their peace. Instead the three took up positions nearby and waited.

They waited and watched as the sun just peaked over the horizon.

And they would wait until night faded away entirely.


	6. Emergence

Emergence

**So this one's a little different from the others, maybe less light-hearted. Just saying beforehand.**

**Please review if you like, and if you don't I would love to know why; stylistically, character problems or plot-wise. **

It was week four when news came that Zaheer escaped.

Korra had been waiting patiently in her room, staring out the thin glass window, when hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. She turned a little, slightly intrigued, and rolled her chair to the doorway, peaking after the sound. No one ever ran in the temple, well, except for maybe the kids. Her eyes caught on a flash of white and blue as it disappeared around a corner, White Lotus.

Still, she didn't bother to care what had happened, today she was scheduled for another healing session with Katara and there were no words to describe how she dreaded it. She didn't tell the others, but the 'healing process' was more taxing than anything she'd ever had to endure in her entire life; the water always started off cool against her skin, but then it grew hot—boiling—as it sept in and out of her and rewove tattered nerves and bruised bones.

Korra cringed at the thought. Katara was an amazing healer, but even she couldn't make the experience any less unpleasant.

She shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to push the thought of what was about to happen from her mind.

When she finally succeeded, however, she was reminded of something even more painful and instinctively she grabbed at her upper arms, eyes flashing open. She massaged them quickly, fingers traced over the small scars where the poison had been seeped forcibly through her skin.

That had hurt more, so much more. Tears sprung to her eyes and suddenly she was consumed by the thought, the memory.

The room twisted, and she was no longer in the air temple. Korra was forced back, to the place she only ever saw in sleep.

She was dangling above burning rock. Her arms constrained over her head, body pulled down and weighed painfully by gravity. She was levitating, truly in a limbo between life and death. A searing heat erupted in her chest, she felt something surge within her, the defensive state. Korra thought for certain that she would succumb in seconds. Yet she didn't. An animalistic roar of pain erupted from her mouth. All of a sudden she was fighting too many; the poison, the Avatar, the Red Lotus, herself.

She saw Zaheer, Amon, Vaatu, her uncle, and they all joined together. Why were they here? She had defeated them, but then she hadn't, never would.

And she had felt like crying, but she couldn't because there was something Korra had to protect; a thousand lives that would come after and a thousand lives that had come before. It didn't matter that she was no longer connected to Aang or Wan, she was their legacy, she couldn't let go. So she fought, and screamed, and pulled against the chains, and silently begged that someone—anyone—would come and help.

Why, when she needed it most, was she only surrounded by those who hated her?

Her wrists strained against the thick chains, and the world went dark, and a mask with a twisted smirk appeared from within. The mask was a man, his hand was on her forehead, she heard a cry that was her own, and her voice was ripped from her throat. Screams joined with those of many others, they combined together, rushed a desperate fury into her heart.

Then Korra disappeared, fell into an abyss of light.

The Avatar emerged.

Someone shook her shoulder, Korra's hands tightened.

They were attacking. She was chasing. Zaheer was too fast, and her mind pleaded with the light — begged it to send her back—said that if this didn't stop then they both would die. The Avatar State didn't listen and Korra was pushed deeper, suppressed and desensitized further from the pain as her body took every blow. The powerful force was trying to protect her, but as the same time, it was killing her.

When all other options were spent, Korra had asked it to release her and let death come.

For whatever reason, it didn't listen.

Then Korra fell to the ground for the last time and she blamed herself as her subconscious was pushed away in the enraged fog. Korra watched but didn't feel her body slip into nothingness. Her father's voice broke through the dazed stupor but she couldn't see him. The Avatar State controlled her sight. She realized it was stealing away and hiding from her those final crucial moments of life.

So she cursed it, yelled at Raava, yelled at herself for allowing this to happen, and Korra was certain it had hidden from her the last thing she was ever meant to see.

Her father was alive, but she was dying and the stupid light wouldn't give her the simple dignity of controlling her own eyes.

"It's okay, slow down," Asami's voice. "Korra, it's not real."

She gasped and rocked backwards with the pure force of waking. The chair would have fallen over had it not been for Asami holding it down. A soft hand wrapped over her clasped hands, gripped her sweaty palms.

"Breathe," the girl said softly as Korra arose from the memory in a panic. Her eyes darted in every direction; searching out Zaheer, the Avatar State, the cave where she was meant to die. But Asami was talking, and she wouldn't allow her friend to go back there.

"Come on, with me," she took an exaggerated breath and Korra numbly followed the motion. Asami nodded encouragingly. "It's over, right?"

Korra wasn't certain if that was meant as a question or a statement. It certainly didn't feel any different. So they struggled together for a long while, until the tears finally stopped and Korra could formulate words.

But the images of the cave never faded and she was too exhausted to try and fight it anymore. She dropped her head into her hands and leaned forward onto her lap, body racking with dry sobs. How pathetic, she thought, somehow she'd cried so much she couldn't ever produce a tear. Asami's arms wrapped around her body and her chin fell lightly onto her back. She must have said some words of kindness, but Korra heard so many other's words that she didn't notice. The hateful voices never stopped, and she was terrified by the thought they never would.

That was when someone knocked at the door and Tenzin, accompanied by a pair of White Lotus sentries, entered.

Asami looked up and, for a brief moment, Korra did too.

She saw the alarm on his features, but it wasn't about the episode, it was pushed by something else.

Korra didn't need to ask, she knew well enough.

"Zaheer broke out."

And the deep cavern loomed around them; a pit ready to pull her down into its depths without an ounce of mercy or regret. It would consume her if she didn't fight it, and maybe she could have, except, unlike so many times before, Korra felt she couldn't trust the light to guide her to the surface.

She saw the rims of the world loose its color, submerge into an unyielding darkness.

No light to lead, no hope to have, no help to come.

Then, in the center, just as her sight was about to be overwhelmed by obscurity, she saw fire.

And the flame lit from within.


	7. Human

Human

**Enjoy! Hopefully the feel of the story will even out soon. Don't own LOK.**

Naga never liked strangers, but recently it seemed there were a lot of them.

And they were taking over _her _island.

She sat on her haunches overlooking the port as they drifted in on their large metal boats or jumped down from cables in some haste. A few immediately rushed into the temple while others took up position on the edges of the island; one even stopped near her. She growled at him and he nudged away a little, keeping an eye on the giant polar bear.

Naga glared, but he didn't move.

Annoyed by his presence, she rose to her paws and drifted away from the metal man, pouting.

So, as she always did when she was bored or confused, Naga sought out Korra. Her friend usually managed to explain things, and Naga really wanted to file a complaint about the rigid guard men who kept setting up shop in her favorite resting places. Maybe Korra would let her nip one of them.

Naga rustled her fur, shaking off the dew of morning. They probably wouldn't taste good anyways. Metal was not a good flavor.

After a bit of searching, Naga found Korra in the courtyard.

She frowned, Korra was accompanied by at least five of those stiff guard men.

Naga bristled and snuck to her side, instinctively pulling her body behind the girl's chair to protect her back. She didn't know why, but there was an unsettling sensation in her stomach. Her eyes shifted between the guards; the metal ones mixed with those incompetent benders who permanently resided on the island. What were they called? The Fighting Flowers? White Leaf? _Weaklings_, Naga huffed. She had seen them fight, and Naga knew cubs that could do better.

As for the metal men, she had learned over time to trust them, but still she eyed them warily. Then she looked at Korra, expecting some form of explanation, but Korra was looking at her hands and didn't offer one.

More humans appeared. Naga was relieved to see bald man and crooked brow, as well as perfume girl and scar face.

She liked scar face, sometimes the lady would sneak her treats when Korra was out. Plus she knew how scar face lady fought. Like Korra, the lady was a polar bear. Naga relaxed a little

"Everyone is in position," scar face said, blunt and to the point as ever.

"Thank you, Lin," bald man said with a sigh. "Now I guess we have to wait."

"Maybe nothing will happen," perfume girl said. Naga huffed, still confused but also a little bored with the conversation.

"No, he'll come," a new voice, young fire boy with uniform. Naga cocked her head to the side, what was his name? Eye—roo? Where on earth did humans come up with these names? "Zaheer's been sighted in the earth kingdom, but he was on his way out."

Naga lowered her head, _Zaheer._ She could feel the anxiety the word created in those present, in Korra. So Naga hated it.

"Let him, this time it's on our terms," scar face lady said. She crossed her arms definitively. "My men can protect both the air benders and the Avatar."

Naga felt Korra stiffen. _Protect?_ Naga could handle that, they didn't need so many people.

Then the group dispersed; the guards spread over the island and scar face lady left, the others eventually went back to their rooms or work. Naga remained with alone with Korra.

Well, relatively alone. Naga noticed at least three strangers watching them in secret. Korra followed her eyes to the guards and frowned.

"I guess we can't go riding anymore without them knowing," she spoke softly, to only Naga. Then she lifted a hand and absentmindedly ran it through her fur, "There's no running away from this one, girl."

Naga snuggled her head under Korra's arm, sensing her friend's distress but at a complete loss for how to alleviate it.

_We've escaped worse before._

Korra looked into her eyes and Naga knew she had heard, had understood.

"I know," she smiled, then it faded away. "Just not this time."

Then Korra motioned for Naga to follow and the polar bear dutifully treaded behind as she wheeled herself to the stable where they kept the Bison. Though she tired quickly, Korra managed to grab and roll some food into a spot where Naga could eat and bent water into a pale for her. When Naga finished, she curled up onto a clean bale of hay and relished in the warmth.

When she looked up to show Korra the massive dent she'd put in the straw, she realized her friend was lost in her own world.

Naga wouldn't allow that. So she rose and nudged the chair in the direction of the hay pile.

"Woah, hold on Naga," Korra said quickly as she began to realize what the dog was about to do. "I don't think—Agh!"

Before she knew it, Naga tipped the chair and she landed face first into the soft hay.

Korra spit out a bit of straw and turned to the polar bear, whom simply grinned wickedly. Then she proceeded to nestle and pat down a softer seat for herself next to the young Avatar. Korra watched her for a minute, then laughed and pulled herself into a more comfortable position.

"Do you know how hard it is to get back in that thing?" she pointed at the chair with a thin grin.

Naga nodded. When the time came she would help her back up, but for now Korra would just have to deal.

"Right," Korra pulled her arms above her head and leaned back. Naga could see sweat line her brow, she was exhausted already. Naga expected her to continue speaking, berating her for knocking her out of the rolly-chair, but instead she looked… relieved. Despite the fact she would stink of hay for hours after, Korra didn't seem to mind. She shut her eyes and took in a few long breaths.

They lay like that for an hour and neither moved or spoke, or barked. Occasionally, Naga would entertain herself with watching the guards as they kept a respectable distance, yawned, and stretched.

Then Korra's voice broke through the contented reverie, "You should go home, Naga."

_Home_, where was home anyways? She already knew, it was where her person was. So no, she would not go anywhere.

"I don't want anyone to get—," Korra's voice caught in her throat, "—because of me." Naga shifted and licked her arm. Korra turned to her. She seemed to composed herself for a long while; brow furrowed into her face as she urged words to come forth. Finally, she spoke, and the words opened a void that Korra could no longer contain of her own volition.

"I'm scared," she said. Her words were so soft Naga barely heard them. A single tear rolled down her cheek and disappeared into the hay. "Naga, I'm so scared sometimes I can't breathe."

Naga lifted her head; she understood that words meant things to humans but Naga was not one of them. She understood actions better. Korra had beaten evil flying man before, so Naga knew that she would again, and if there was some danger to be seen then they would deal with it, together.

Fear was a human emotion. Naga was a polar bear dog.

Naga saw the tears, heard the words, and she felt her own inability to respond, to comfort.

So, perhaps for the first time in her life, Naga realized that her strong, powerful and fierce polar bear friend, was really part human too.

Naga nestled her nose against the girl's forehead as she repeated the words over and over.

She knew nothing of their comfort, of their minds.

But Naga knew Korra.

So she would heal the wound the only way she knew how, as a polar bear.


	8. Wind

Wind

**Thanks for all the Reviews! I might have a few shorter ones coming up but we'll see.**

Tonraq paced the room, hands clasped tightly behind. He stopped for a moment, glared at the so called _President_ of Republic City, and then proceeded walking back and forth.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered.

"I assure you, this is the best option we have seen yet," Raiko said from his seat at the end of the table opposite Tenzin.

Tonraq forced himself to turn and hide his clenched fists. That man's voice raked on his nerves like nails over dull stone but this was not the time to incite a fight. The South had no quarrel with Republic City, so he couldn't show a personal dislike for its leader. Even if he was just a badger in wolf's clothing.

"Korra is not just some bait you can drop in the water," Tonraq tried to keep his voice even. "I will not allow this."

Raiko slowly stood and evened out his fancy shirt.

"I'm afraid you do not have a choice," he smiled one of his thick politician smiles, "She may be your daughter, but she is the Avatar first, and right now Korra is needed here."

In one word, Tonraq mustered as much authority as he could.

"No," he stepped forward, pulling his shoulders back. He'd show that badger who the bigger wolf was.

The President was thrown off, probably just from the man's sheer size, but only for a moment. His eyes narrowed.

"She will stay, and with her help we will finally put an end to this terrorist organization," he said.

"It is not safe here," Tonraq said. He glanced at the others, hoping for a vote of support. He knew with every fiber of his being that he was right about this. They needed to get away and hide, at least until the situation was better. His eyes caught Tenzin's and he could tell the air bending master was thinking along the same lines. The others, however, he was dismayed to find, cast a few tentative glances between Raiko and the Southern Chieftain.

Sue, Prince Iroh, a few former council members, their silence told him enough. Meanwhile Lin watched until she found it necessary to interrupt the showdown.

"I agree with the President."

Tonraq turned to her, eyes wide. Raiko, the council members, he'd expected this logic from then, but Chief Beifong? He'd at least thought she cared enough to not allow them to use his daughter in this… this power play.

"Why?" he was finding it more and more difficult to contain his anger.

"My men can handle Zaheer," she said matter-of-factly. Then, upon seeing the doubt in his eyes, Lin sighed, "There is no other option; either we take him down now, or he will regroup and come back stronger. And you and I both know that with the situation in the Earth Kingdom he will find support."

"We could search for him," Tonraq said.

She crossed her arms, "How? He can fly, we wouldn't have a chance."

"I don't know," Tonraq growled and continued his pacing. How could they even be considering this? The last time they had fought Zaheer he had almost single handedly defeated all of them.

He had almost killed his daughter.

Tonraq could not allow that to happen, not again. He fought away the memory; how his arms wrapped around her still form, those bright white eyes, the way they closed, how her hand fell from his face. Tonraq had been certain in all of one minute that he had lost her, his only child.

Though Tonraq was a leader, a Chieftain, first and foremost he would always be a father. Just like Korra would always be his daughter, no matter what title she may wear. In that moment, he wished he could steal her away, bring Korra to the South until she was stronger and as he watched the others gradually side with Raiko, he started to wonder if that would become _his _only option.

"Korra would agree, I think," Raiko said with a slick civility. He rubbed his beard as if the words that spewed from his pompous mouth were some kind of special wisdom.

Tonraq's heart chilled over. No one knew what Korra was thinking these days, not even Tonraq, but he was certain this was not it.

"What did you say?" His clenched fists slid out of their hiding place. Raiko didn't seem to notice the change.

"I said the Avatar would agree with me, she is not a fool after all." Tonraq could almost hear the words that would have followed, _unlike her father._

"What the President means," Lin's vice interjected quickly, she must have noticed the wolf bare its claws, "Is that we are doing this for her. If we succeed then this weight will be lifted off all of us."

Tonraq took a long time in responding. He suppressed his anger, forced his hands to loosen, relax their grip and fall limp at his sides. Then he slowly lifted his gaze and looked into every eye present until finally they landed on those of the fierce metal bending captain.

"And what happens if we fail?"

The fierceness softened into a meager understanding.

"We won't, not this time."

For some reason, her words set him at ease. Not because she had faith in her people to perform, but because at least Lin accepted the truth that no one else would; the fight with the Red Lotus had been a failure.

Tonraq saw that failure every waking moment he spent with his daughter; how she hardly smiled, fought terrors and pain beyond his understanding, needed help getting into bed, changing. He saw it in her eyes, heard it in her words.

The Red Lotus hadn't managed to end the Avatar cycle, but they had succeeded in breaking his daughter.

And they were still trying to bring back the pieces.

"I think it would be best if we let Korra decide on the matter," Tenzin rose from his seat. "After all, in the end, stay or leave, this is her decision. Not ours."

Tonraq gleamed. He nodded his thanks to the air bending master but Tenzin, as ever, maintained his façade of neutrality. Tonraq knew the others couldn't argue. Ultimately this had always been her decision to make. Still, he knew she choose well, the _safe _choice.

So the group of leaders left the room and sought out the opinion and final word of the Avatar.

They found her in one of the outdoor training grounds watching the new air benders practice their forms. She didn't seem to notice or care that they had all suddenly congregated around her. Korra was focused on the bending movements, and Tonraq saw in her silence how much she wished to join them.

To fly on your feet was a wonderful thing, but to know the feeling and then be tied to the ground? He supposed there was nothing more frustrating.

"Senna," Tonraq smiled at his wife as she approached from sitting on a bench nearby. She briefly hugged him and then frowned.

"What is all this?" she said quietly, motioning to the group that stood behind him.

Tonraq didn't have time to reply before Raiko had barged a path through the small crowd and stepped in front of Korra, blocking her view of the air benders. He set about informing her of the situation and spent a copious fifteen minutes more to explain every reason why she should stay, including a few choice pieces about the desperate state of the city and its threatened denizens.

However, all the while, Korra never once seemed like she heard or cared for a word of it.

Somewhere behind the babbling President there were a group of air benders dancing in the wind and Korra was there, with them.

"Avatar Korra," Raiko said, tapping a finger on his arm. "We are all waiting on your decision."

Nothing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," Senna closed the gap between Raiko and her daughter. Tonraq had to contain a smile as he watched his wife calmly turn the situation. "Today has been a long day. Perhaps we can discuss this later."

"This is too important," Raiko's civil expression deepened into a frown. "We need her answer."

"And you'll have it," Senna said with a soothing smile which Tonraq knew actually disguised a deep disliking, "Just not today, not right now."

Then she took his arm, and was about to guide him away from their daughter,when Korra spoke.

"I'm staying."

Tonraq couldn't contain his surprise, or his fear. His eyes connected with Senna's and he saw the deep concern which she sheltered inside.

"Korra, you don't have to," he started, "there are other ways—"

"No, there aren't," her voice was cold, it broke his heart. Tonraq watched her, saw the glazed expression, but couldn't discern for one blasted moment what she was thinking.

Had he failed so much as a father that he couldn't even boast knowing his own child?

"So you have your answer," Korra said to Raiko, whose smile had grown a little too wide for Tonraq's liking.

"Now leave."

The smile dropped, and Tonraq thought for a second that he had seen a hint of the old Korra, but then she turned away from them and didn't say another word.

Tonraq was left with only questions.

So the group dispersed, but Senna and Tonraq stayed behind.

"Why?" he said. She shrugged, he knelt beside her. "Korra?"

The she sighed and lifted her gaze from her hands, she met his head on.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

He saw it, the flicker; the first waver in the perpetual glaze of her stare. It was small, but there had been a spark, Tonraq was certain. He wanted to see it again; even if it came in the form of anger, he would have given anything to see emotion in those tired eyes.

He remembered when she was a child; how her face lit up so quickly. There was a fire to her spirit, an edge to her heart that made Korra push through everything, but after the fight, he hadn't been able to find it. Tonraq would never admit the truth, but in the days after, he had felt his faith begin to fade.

Yet, as he looked at his daughter now, he realized how foolish that had been.

He could think and examine, listen to the healers talk about her physical or mental condition for hours, when all he should have done was really look at her. Maybe he had been too afraid. Afraid of seeing the emptiness, or worse, the reflection of his own guilt. So, to avoid it, he never really tried. Instead, for weeks he had fought others, sought out healers, and interrogated her friends about her condition. But somehow, he'd never had the courage to see it for himself.

But Senna did, and she had not chided him or pointed out his failure. His wife had waited for him to take his time, like Korra, and see what she saw right from the beginning.

Their daughter had not been broken, she was just exhausted.

She was a soldier, one who'd fought too hard and come home with marks he'd never thought she would have to bare. And yet, she would, because that's who she was.

Because she was his, and he was hers.

His arm draped over Senna's shoulder and she smiled in return. Korra was theirs.

Faith blossomed and rooted deeper than it ever had before, than Tonraq ever thought it could.

Though she sat in a peaceful silence, Tonraq felt the air; how it swirled and strengthened the tiny spark at its center.

In looking at the ground, he'd missed her reach for the sky.

Tonraq felt his own heart lighten and Korra smiled at him, reassuring _him_.

Then she was dancing on wind.


	9. Relief

Relief

**Saw a request for an air kid story, hope this is written in character. Enjoy!**

Time passed and the island stayed on high alert; cops watched over the bay, searched the skies day and night.

They all expected to see a swirl of wind, a gust of fog, a man fly in on nothing but air itself. Time passed and they guarded the island, but Zaheer did not appear. Still the tension did not dissipate, especially among the adults. They skirted their way through the yard occasionally glancing at the sky.

Somehow, his lack of presence was more terrifying to those forced to wait than the actual thought of him appearing among them.

After the first couple days, Ikki started to make a game of it; every time a metal bending cop would think he saw something, cry out to his friends, then realize it was just a puff of cloud that had escaped from the others.

She had a note pad with every single event, and Ikki took excellent notes.

For example, today the heavy one with a thick beard was shifting a little more nervously than usual. He couldn't see her from her perch in the tree branches but she watched him with an unerring patience, something she had learned from her sister.

Ikki grinned as the man lifted a hand to cover his eyes, he thought he saw something, Ikki scribbled in her pad.

Meelo was usually the one to do things like this, sort of. If Ikki knew her brother he would probably rather try to scare the cop man on his own, not wait patiently for him to spook. Ikki was a little different, however, she liked the wait. As for Jinora, well, Ikki knew she would probably never have done anything like this in her entire life. If anything, her older sister would chide her for distracting the cops from their duty.

But Ikki was different, and she was _sooo_ bored, especially since everyone was busy training or worrying.

The man's eyes narrowed, Ikki leaned in. Did he think he saw something? He opened his mouth to speak.

"Ikki! Get down from there this moment."

She jumped, revealing her hiding spot to the guard. He turned and saw the little figure in the trees. Ikki immediately froze.

She'd been spotted! _Stay still, maybe he won't try to run—._

"Now, Ikki," her father's voice.

She groaned and looked to the one who had betrayed her position. Swiftly, she jumped down from the tree and landed in a puff of wind.

"What were you doing up there?" Tenzin lifted an eyebrow at his youngest daughter.

"Sleeping?" Ikki pulled on her sweetest smile. Tenzin wasn't convinced, his eyes fell on the notepad and he ran a hand over his eyes.

"Ikki, you must let the police do their work," he said.

"What work? All they do is stand around," she pouted and crossed her little arms in frustration.

Tenzin ignored her question. She saw her father's eyes flit to the sky and then back again. Why was everyone so nervous? Flying bald dude wouldn't come here, the island was practically a fortress.

"Go inside, dinner will be ready soon."

"Fine," she muttered. Ikki quickly stuffed her notepad into her pocket and scooted away, leaving behind a very exasperated Tenzin.

Ikki decided to make a quick stop in the dormitories before heading to dinner. Maybe if she was lucky she would run into Pabu somewhere and get to chase him around for a few minutes. Bolin never seemed to mind, especially since he was off the island most of the time, working on some new mover.

Ikki heard a sound and she grinned, rushing to it. Where there was a squeak there was a little rat thingy.

To her surprise, however, Ikki found herself standing at the doorway to Korra's room. She stopped, hesitant as her eyes fell on the figure in the chair and drifted to Asami who sat on the bed opposite. They were speaking in hushed tones, and Korra had that same look that made Ikki's heart fill with a certain deadening silence.

She didn't enter, not because she didn't want to, but because she was afraid. Of everyone on the island, Korra seemed to be impacted most by the changes, and Ikki had no idea if she would even want to see a silly air bending kid when the world had suddenly become so serious.

So Ikki stared, uncertain and caught between a chance to flee and the thin line that separated her from the room and its occupants.

The choice was made, however, when Korra saw her in the doorway.

"Ikki," she said. A mix of surprise and something else which Ikki could only think was annoyance. Of course Korra would be annoyed at seeing her, she was the Avatar, and she had too many things to worry about. She didn't need interruptions.

"What's wrong?" Korra's voice was soft and Ikki broke from her daze. He eyes dropped to her clasped hands, when had they gotten like that?

"Nothing, I was looking for Pabu."

"He's not on the island today," Asami said. "He left with Bolin last night."

"Okay," Ikki said a little too quickly. She saw Korra frown and Ikki was convinced Korra wanted her to go, "Thanks! See you later!"

Then she tried to leave, thought she was doing some good by allowing the adults their peace, but she was stopped when Korra called her back.

"Ikki, can you come here for a sec?"

Slowly she walked into the room and glanced between the two girls. Asami smiled politely then passed Korra a few silent words before leaving and disappearing into the hallway.

"Did you want something?" Ikki said, she didn't really know why she felt nervous. Perhaps it was the silence of the room that set her on edge. Ikki liked noise, and talking, but the Korra she had seen for the last few weeks was not the same talkative, heartfelt girl she knew, and that was unsettling in so many ways.

"No," Korra shook her head. She was silent for a moment, then continued, "I'm sorry, I haven't been—," she stopped, swallowed as words tried to come back. "I haven't been around much, for you guys, for any of you."

"But you live here," Ikki frowned.

"That's true, but… I haven't. So I'm sorry."

Ikki saw her hands clench over the railing of the chair and took a few steps closer.

"Daddy says you're tired," Ikki said.

Korra's eyes widened slightly and Ikki wandered what she was thinking. She knew Korra hated the chair, hated lying around all day, but there was something else. Maybe she hated being tired too.

"I am."

"Do you want to take a nap?" Ikki perked up a little and rushed to the bed, pulling some of the blankets out of their neatly tucked position.

Korra smiled but shook her head.

"No, thanks. I want to show you something, but you have to keep it a secret," she said with a hint of a grin.

Ikki almost jumped with glee. Korra motioned for her to close the door and Ikki shut it without hesitation.

"Okay, promise not to tell anyone?" Korra said while feigning seriousness. Ikki nodded excitedly, she couldn't keep a secret for her life—but Korra would have known that—and she wanted to tell her anyways.

"Yep, yep," she said. "What is it?"

Korra chuckled then braced her hands on the arms of the chair.

"Give me a minute," she furrowed her brow. Ikki saw the muscles strain in her arms. They shook slightly and she leaned forward. Then both feet slowly slipped off the foot rail, and Korra pushed forward. Her hands lifted from the steel and knees wobbled.

If Ikki's eyes could get any wider, well, they did.

Korra smiled, beads of sweat ran down her temple. The chair rolled away, out of reach.

She took a step.

"Korra!" Ikki couldn't contain the surprise.

She took another.

Ikki was practically floating, "Korra! You're—you're walking!"

She managed one last wobbly step before Ikki saw her legs give way. For a moment she thought her friend would fall, but instead she gripped the side of the bed and quickly lowered herself to the ground, arm draped over the covers.

Ikki clapped and ran up to her, bouncing up and down. Korra watched, head bobbing with the motion, while she caught her breath. After a few minutes, she finally managed to speak.

"I have been working on it," she said between controlled gasps. "Naga and I, for a while actually, no one knows yet."

Ikki laughed and wrapped her small arms around her neck, Korra gently reciprocated the embrace. She was stronger, Ikki could tell, much stronger. Suddenly, she had a thought and pulled from the hug.

"Now you can play with us!" she felt excitement bubble in her chest. Korra could walk!

"Soon, but I need to make it go longer. Then we will, promise."

Ikki rushed a few nods, she was content enough with the few steps. She could wait.

"We have to tell Daddy!" she rubbed her chin, "And your parents."

"I was thinking just that," Korra slowly lifted to sit on the bed. "I asked Asami to get them."

"And Mako?"

Ikki felt pleased to see how her words caused Korra grab at her collar and divert her eyes, "Yes, him too."

"Good, because he'll be happy."

Ikki thought she saw tears appear at the bottom of her eyes, but they weren't for sadness, or fear.

"You're right, Ikki. Let's go."


	10. Change

Take Me Back

**Oddly enough, of all of them this was probably the most difficult to write character-wise, but here it is anyways. Enjoy!**

"Wake up!" a hand slammed hard, and far too loudly, on the desk.

Mako jolted into the air, almost falling backwards in his chair. For a moment he opened his mouth to yell at whoever had woken him, but stumbled to find words as the young fire bender came face to face with his boss, Chief Beifong.

And she was not looking too happy.

"Sorry chief," he smoothed out his wrinkled cuffs. To avoid her stern gaze he shuffled with some papers and stacked them in a neat pile in front of him.

"What are you still doing here?" The chief crossed her arms. The light of the lamp glinted off her metal uniform.

"I was, umm," Mako glanced at the clock, then shot a look outside. His eyes widened as he realized what time it was. "I fell asleep."

"So I noticed," Lin frowned. "You missed it."

He stared at her, confused, until the Chief groaned and rubbed her temple.

"It's almost midnight, kid. The last Friday ferry to the island stops soon, you should catch it while you still can."

"Why? Did something happen?" he rose from his seat, immediately concerned. Any mention of the island always set his nerves on edge. Not because of the high alert, or the threat of an attack, but because of _her._

These days he only ever heard bad news. Frantic phone calls at two in the morning from Asami about Korra's condition worsening overnight, courtesy calls from Tenzin or Pema about how healing sessions went, whether or not he was needed at the temple. Now Mako had just slept for four hours, anything could have happened in that time.

Chief Beifong, however, didn't seem alarmed and Mako felt himself relax some, but only a little.

"You need to pick up your phone when it rings," she said and Mako glanced at the lunky contraption on his desk. The phone was off the receiver; he must have moved while sleeping and disconnected it. He swallowed.

"I know," he said quickly, fixing the phone with one hand. "Is everything all right?"

At seeing his concern, the stern frown of the esteemed Chief softened, and she nodded.

"Just go see for yourself," she said, lips turning up into a small smile. "It'll make her happy."

Korra? So something had happened. Mako was about to question her again when the Chief rose a hand to stop him.

"Take the weekend off," she moved to the doors. "I'll see you on Monday."

Then she was gone.

Mako didn't need another urging, in seconds he had grabbed his things and set off running to catch the ferry. He arrived just in time before leaving port. This late at night, the ferry was almost completely empty, save for a few White Lotus returning home, and Mako found a bench overlooking the side of the boat to pass the time.

For a while, he watched the water, felt some spray over his skin as the waves lapped around him, pushed and bounced away from the side of the boat. His heart was racing, though he didn't know why. It just was, and he silently hoped the trip would move faster.

Still, it didn't, and Mako tried to calm his nerves by listening to the cool brushing sounds of the bay.

He shut his eyes.

_Water_, smooth, flowing, beautiful. _Blue, _blue eyes, wide and bright. He saw Korra, remembered the first time he'd seen her really bend. Not in arena when she'd sent the other players flying illegally over the sides of the ring, but rather after practice days later.

He'd seen her push and pull the water, swing it around her body, dance on her feet like it was nothing. She had moved with it, guided it and synchronized the motions into a flurry of wonder filled strikes. That was the first time he'd seen how amazing she was, the way she could control and tame the mass of liquid with a flick of her wrist. He stood mesmerized all the while, until she ended with a slow circling funnel of water then bent it into the satchel at her side. Mako had watched her in silence, unsure if he should approach or not, but at the time Korra hadn't noticed him, and Mako barely knew her. He didn't even know that he would want to.

That he would want to know her, how much he would want to love her.

So he left, but the image never faded from his mind.

Even when he was with Asami he would remember the dance, vividly recall how she moved, how she smiled brilliantly, like simply bending water gave her a thrill in life. Back then he would push it away, urge himself to focus. He'd thought he loved Asami, and maybe at one point he had, but somehow he always kept coming back to the girl in blue.

The girl who had saved his heart, whose heart he had broken, whose love he had promised, and she had reciprocated in full.

Still, these days it seemed she was breaking his heart all over again. Or maybe just truly for the first time.

It broke when he spoke to her father; when Tonraq would ask what he thought of it all. It broke when Asami told him how she worried about their friend. When Korra barely smiled, barely talked, spent nights crying alone and then would push away his help no matter how much he wanted to give it. It broke when she turned away from him. It broke when she held back words, when she struggled in silence.

His heart shattered when he realized she wanted to push on by herself, when he started thinking that maybe she didn't want him there.

Still, he wouldn't leave.

Things had been worst in the first week following the fight.

Initially it was hectic; people tried to wrap their minds around all that had happened. No one really knew how long, or how much, it would take for her to heal. Even Katara had no idea.

As for Mako, all he knew was that he had seen her lie immobile in that bed for a full week; someone who couldn't keep still, someone who could literally lift mountains, forced to become something completely opposite.

When she was strong enough for the wheel chair he'd been overjoyed, had hoped Korra would be too, but she didn't speak a word of how she felt. Instead she allowed them to guide her into the seat and push her around. They had tried to coax out words but she simply wouldn't try.

Water splashed over his face and he wiped it away with a gloved hand.

He wished he could go back; a month, two months, a year ago, back to when they started. When he first met the girl with the bright blue eyes, and she first saw the boy with the red scarf.

Maybe he could have changed something, done it differently, but here they were regardless. Mako was no longer the boy with the scarf, Korra no longer the girl with the bright eyes, and he had no idea what to think of that.

They had both sacrificed who they once were for someone else, for too many others.

The ferry drew closer to the island. Mako rubbed his hands together to ward off the chill.

It wasn't her fault, what had happened, even if Mako sometimes wondered why the girl he knew had seemingly disappeared. Korra had chosen the only option she felt was open, and she had saved the air benders, stopped Zaheer.

No one could have predicted the cost.

No one, except maybe Korra. Mako had seen it in her eyes before she left the airship, before she went to meet Zaheer. She must have felt it and known what could happen. Yet she'd gone anyways.

The boat docked in port, he jumped off and set a quick pace towards the dormitories. Fears ran through his mind like thunder; maybe she had decided to leave the island, or gotten sick, or—.

He turned a corner, into the hallway.

Where was the girl with the blue eyes? Maybe she would never come back. He pushed the thought away.

Her door was coming up on the right, a thin ray of light peaked under it. She was awake. Mako lifted a hand to knock, but stopped.

Could he stand seeing them—those quiet, tired eyes? How could he walk in there and allow his heart to smash into so many pieces just at the sight of her, then force himself to gather them up again? How could he smile when he was dying at the sight of her?

The door opened.

"Mako!" Two tiny voices squealed. Suddenly two kid's tiny hands had gripped both of his and dragged him into the room.

And it was packed; Jinora with her beautiful new tattoos stood by the bed, Meelo and Ikki were running in circles around him, Tenzin sat in a chair opposite his daughter, Pema in another, Korra's parents, Kya, Bumi, Katara, Opal, Su, and Iroh all sitting or standing. He noticed furniture had been brought in from other rooms to accommodate. Despite the small quarters, somehow everyone fit. Board games and pillows were strewn over the floor, bowls of food were stacked in a pile at the corner, and the three adult siblings were gathered together in a happy conversation.

People were laughing, joking. For the first time in over a month, Korra's room was not the most silent place in the temple. It filled with sounds, words, life.

He was stunned for a minute, completely confused. Gradually people began to realize he had arrived and they turned to him. The crowd shifted, Asami came into view. She gave him a look then drifted out of the way, stepped aside.

And Mako saw her, sitting calmly on the bed, back propped up by a few pillows.

"Hey," he whispered. No one heard him but her, and he saw her smile widen.

It was real, but he couldn't believe it. Not yet.

"What's going on?" he said, eyes never leaving hers.

Ikki was the first to talk, of course. For a moment she had her hands pushed against her mouth, as if she was trying to hold back an explosion, but then the dam burst.

"Korra can walk!" she blurted out. The entire room groaned and she bounced, completely oblivious, "It was gonna be a surprise!"

Mako couldn't speak. Korra held his gaze. There was a slight glint to them, a shine that overcame the deep circles of exhaustion. He mouthed one word to her, over the crowd.

"Really?"

She nodded, and his heart beat fast in his chest.

"Well, she can't now," Ikki was still talking. "'Cuz she's tired and all. You kind of missed the big reveal, but that's okay, because Daddy says we can do it again tomorrow."

Mako didn't care, he didn't need to see. He saw the truth in her eyes. Even if it was something as simple as taking a few wobbly steps, he knew it meant the world.

Things were changing.

Walking in, he had hoped to see the Korra he first met; the brazen, loud, strong girl who could push through anything.

But he realized something was different; this Korra was not quite the young, proud Avatar he had initially known. Perhaps she never would be again. Yet at the same time, this was still the one who had taken his breath away with her smile, the one who had held his heart in her hands and filled it to the brim with a feeling he hadn't known was possible until the second she did.

This was the Korra who danced with water like it was life itself.

And Mako was no longer the boy with the red scarf, they were so much more.

Her smile was radiant, but his was bigger.

Maybe a little different was better.


	11. Promises

Promises

When she had nothing to do, Naga often liked to follow bald man around.

He wasn't the most interesting human; he was too calm, spoke little, rubbed his pointy beard-fur a tad too often for her liking, and spent a lot of time sitting at a desk or ordering people around. Nonetheless, Naga was intrigued, because it seemed like he always had somewhere to go.

Today, for instance, he was walking down a stone pathway in a great hurry and Naga, who perked up immediately on seeing him rush across the courtyard, jumped to her feet to sniff a trail after him.

Maybe he had a secret stash of treats hidden on the temple. Naga's pace quickened, that had to be it. Despite hours of searching, Naga had never been able to find any, had thought perhaps these Monk humans simply didn't like yummy things. What else would make bald man move so quickly? Naga was certain it could be nothing but raw meat or fish, because she loved them. So, thinking logically, humans must too.

She was disappointed however, when the hunt ended at the bay port. Bald man was trying to get on a floaty boat thing, and within minutes he was headed toward the city of lights. Naga wanted to follow, she knew there was food across the bay, but she didn't feel like swimming.

So, now severely disappointed in Korra's bald teacher man, and determined to give him a thwack of her tail when he returned, Naga sighed and drifted back to the dormitories.

Her attention, however, was caught again when she spotted crooked brow and green eyed boy walking along the same path as her. She ran to them and jumped on the one in green. He immediately fell back and chuckled, then tried to shield his face from the assault of licking. Eventually, he managed to escape her greeting and wiped at his mouth with a sleeve.

Naga could hear Mako boy laughing, a giant head turned to him.

So he thought he was safe?

Naga grinned, she prided herself in being thorough.

So she landed a massive lick up the side of fire bender's face. Naga smiled at how his hair curled over onto the other side of his head. His laughter ceased and he groaned, beginning the process of de-salivating his features.

"Why are you so excited today?" Mako boy said as he patted down his hair.

Naga licked her lips. Maybe he had treats. She should check.

His brother, little big Bolin, eyed her warily then turned to Mako covering his mouth with one hand.

Like that would keep Naga from hearing, seriously.

"Mako," he said with wide eyes. "I think she's hungry."

The fire bender blanched but smiled awkwardly before stiffly reaching out to pet her head, up and down like a machine. Bolin bent over laughing,

"You wouldn't eat him, right Naga?"

She thought about it for a moment; looked him over. Nope, he needed a bath. Then, maybe, just maybe.

"Korra probably fed her before she went in for the session," Mako boy said. "C'mon Bo. We gotta go. Bye Naga."

Naga barked and followed. She saw him drop his head, stop and turn to her.

"You're gonna annoy the healers if you come," he said, "_again._"

Still, she followed. He tried urging her away, but she didn't budge. Mako groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. Then he opened his mouth to try again, but was pushed forward by her nose. So they gave up, and Naga joined them contentedly, wagging her tail all the way.

They arrived at a small temple room when the two boys stopped and Naga caught sight of the perfume girl. She was standing outside of the door, waiting calmly in a chair. She greeted them all quickly, even Naga.

"How'd it go?" crooked brow said. Naga sensed a hint of concern and she furrowed her brow and glanced at the door. All Korra's friends were here, where was she?

"I don't know," perfume girl frowned. "You guys should have stayed at work. They're not done yet."

"What?" Green eyes said quickly, "But they started over three hours ago."

She clenched her hands together and diverted her eyes. Naga felt Mako boy stiffen.

Naga glanced between the three humans, once again confounded by what could possibly compel them to simply stand outside of a door and not open it. Why did they always just wait around and look at one another?

Then she thought maybe that they could communicate through smell. Naga sniffed perfume girl, but she didn't lean forward to sniff her back. The polar bear pulled away, slightly insulted she didn't return the gesture. Then she huffed and sat on her haunches, observing lazily.

"I should have let you know before, but I didn't want cause alarm," Asami said. "They said she fell last night."

Neither boy responded, even Naga waited for her to continue.

"Korra tried to bend again, out of the chair this time, but she—," she stopped, took a breath. "The healers say she wasn't ready to start yet, moving or bending. That the exertion caused more harm than good."

Naga glared at the door, she hated doors.

"That's not possible," crooked brow was saying. "We saw her, we all saw. How could this be bad?"

"That's all they said," Asami shook her head. "They haven't let me see her yet; only Tenzin and her parents have been allowed inside."

The door opened.

"I apologize for that. This has been a fragile time."

Naga jumped to her paws, ecstatic to see kind old lady appear out from behind, but Mako boy blocked the dog from greeting her with a hand. Naga realized it was because she would probably injure the woman. Still, she panted happily. Katara would have treats, she _always_ brought her treats.

"What's wrong?"

Katara's frown deepened the lines under her eyes.

"When she first arrived, we extracted what we thought was left over of the poison, but we discovered there is still some we cannot remove. That's where the pain has been coming from, all this time her body has been fighting it while she rested," old lady said.

"So how did you find it now?" Mako boy.

"Because she started walking," Katara said. "The movement spread the poison before we could find its origin."

No one spoke, Naga wanted to tell them to relax. _Poison_, poison was just bad fruit. You eat a few of them, it stings for a while, but then it goes away. So maybe Korra had a few yucky berries. Lap up some water, eat a chunk of meat, that's all it took. Naga's tongue waved lazily out the side of her mouth. She bet she could do better than these water ladies. Yet, they always disregarded her advice, even when she tried to tell them that you could not fix a paw by strapping a piece of wood to it. Any polar bear knew you just had to walk it off.

Still, humans were squishier. Maybe they did need all the extra stuff.

"So what does that mean?"

"She is sick. How much, we don't know. I sent Tenzin away to get medicine."

Naga whimpered, looked between those present, and padded her paws on the ground. Sick, sick was worse, but still manageable.

"Can we come in?" Green eyes said.

Kind old lady was about to speak when someone screamed from inside. They all turned to the sound, Naga's head jolted in its direction. Then there was another. It was strong, powerful, but full of agony, and Naga knew immediately who belonged to the pain. Someone was hurting her person.

Katara must have recognized what she was thinking, because somehow she managed to jump to the side before Naga burst through the doorway into the room.

Immediately, she saw two benders; one, a man with thick sideburns, another the woman who usually shooed her away, kneeling over her friend. They were joined together and moving water over a spot at her chest but, to Naga's horror, Korra's head was rolled back on the healing mat; chest arched painfully. Tears streamed down the side of her face. She begged them to stop, pleaded until she screamed, but the two benders at her side wouldn't listen, they continued to delve and remove the water from the spot.

Korra was hurting, and they were the cause.

Naga growled. She might not have agreed with the healers and their convoluted methods, but she never once thought they were evil. Still, here they were, injuring her friend, her best friend in the world.

So she did what any polar bear would do.

The healers saw her coming and quickly dropped the water. Korra's back fell to the ground with a thud. With a few scattered yells, they jumped out of the way and scampered to the door just before the flurry of white rushed over the mat and took up residence in the spot where they once were.

Naga immediately placed both sets of paws firmly on the ground opposite either side of Korra's still form and lowered her head menacingly.

The healers clambered away, hid behind Katara and the others as they quickly filed into the room. Naga heard Korra gasping and felt a fierceness rise in her chest. She bared her teeth at those present. Who could she trust now? Kind old lady had been in the room just before this started.

But she didn't have time to question why, all Naga knew was that she had to stop them.

"Naga, it's okay," old lady was saying. Naga growled again but didn't move. Katara smiled softly, completely composed unlike the other two healers in the room. Naga's eyes darted to the trembling evil ones and then back again.

Katara saw the motion, "Don't worry girl. Everything is all right."

Naga shifted, saw the concerned expressions on the three pups faces; Mako boy said something, but she ignored him. He didn't act or come to her side. Why didn't they try to help? Were they blind too? Katara tried to get her attention again by taking a step forward.

"Korra is all right," she said. Her voice was slow, caring, and soft; like when she would visit them in the compound so many years ago. She wanted to think this was the same woman, but had no way to be sure.

Naga used to stand by Korra alone. Then she met the old lady.

Katara, as they had called her back then, would spend hours lying on the bed with Korra under her arm and Naga at their feet, just talking. Telling fantastical stories of a world and man that had passed with time. After those nights, Naga learned to trust, to feel with her words. Katara was the first she let pet her, the first she let sit at her side when Korra wasn't present. Chief man always wanted to, but she never let him, not until many years later. Still, Korra loved the kind old lady. So Naga grew to as well. But now? It made her heart ache to see kind lady stand by the evil healer woman and mean sideburns while her friend suffered.

She had learned to trust, but maybe that had been a mistake.

Naga felt her warm hand touch the top of her forehead. Naga's growl lessened to ta threatening purr.

"She is fine," Katara never once broke the connection of her gaze. Her voice was strong, like Korra's.

Naga shifted, she heard her friend groan. The pain was subsiding slowly. Still, Naga found her paws frozen to the ground. She was torn between the kind words of the woman who Korra trusted with her life and the harsh fact that perhaps the speaker of those same words was responsible for her friend's pain. How could she forgive that?

Naga lowered her head more, protecting the Avatar's side, and Katara slowly knelt as well. The fingers brushed in long, unfaltering strokes, soothed soft circles into her fur and Naga felt for a moment that she was a puppy again, and she the same woman who would quietly comfort and dismiss her friend's fears, tears, all with so few words.

Korra trusted her.

Naga trusted Korra, loved Korra.

Except Naga was not a puppy anymore.

"Just call that thing off already!" The evil healer yelled from her hiding spot behind Mako boy. Naga tensed.

"She is only worried," old lady said soothingly, but with a hint of annoyance which the other woman missed entirely. She spoke to Naga again, "Korra will be fine, I promise."

_Promise?_ Naga sniffed her; breathed in the scent of herbs and sea water. Korra always smelled like sea water; like she lived in the ocean. Katara smiled, leaned her forehead lightly against the dog's nose and took a small breath in through her nose.

"Yes," she whispered. "I promise."

Suddenly, Naga felt this was Korra breathing in time with her, not Katara. After all, old lady responded to her in the way only Korra knew how. The breath was short, imperceptible to everyone else in the room, but to Naga it was a greater promise than the word itself.

Slowly the muscles in her legs relaxed.

She glanced at kind old lady one last time, then gradually pulled her paw away from Korra's side. She drew back, careful not to jostle her friend, until she was standing across from Katara. Korra was unconscious but breathing with minimal trouble and Naga began to realize she had made a mistake.

Still, instead of admonishing her behavior, Katara nodded approvingly like she knew exactly what Naga was thinking.

Without moving too quickly, Katara slowly drew some water from the bag at her side and lifted it over Naga's friend. She glanced at the polar bear, asking for a go to, and Naga padded her paws until she rested in a lying position with her head on the floor. She smiled in return.

"You did well, Naga. Now it's my turn."

So Katara worked until the end of the session while she let Naga watch, against the wishes of evil healer lady. Given the option, Naga stayed until the end.

When it was over, kind old lady reached into her back pocket and handed Naga a piece of dried meat.

"Don't tell Korra I gave you that," she winked.

Naga swallowed it quickly. No, old lady was not Korra, but she loved her anyways.

So Naga nestled into a comfortable position opposite the healer and waited for her friend to wake. Katara, though she gave a small pained grunt at the motion, settled into a seat as well.

Naga would have waited forever, but now she knew kind old lady would too.

Because their promises went deeper than words.


	12. Cycle

**Hey guys! Trying to gradually change up the style and transitions of this story. I love getting reviews, they help a lot in deciding the feel. So let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy.**

The Cycle

"The wind blows to the south and turns to the north; round and round it goes, ever returning on its course… What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun."

- Ecclesiastes

They waited.

"Is there something we can do?" Asami, or her mother, she couldn't tell. Their voices sounded the same. Too concerned, scared.

_No._

"We have to be patient, that's all there is." Katara, she knew that one at least.

_For how long? _

Korra supposed it didn't really matter.

_Maybe forever, until never._

"How will we know if she—?"

_You won't._

"We need to have faith. It will take time," Tenzin.

_Because the poison has taken its toll, right? Tell them the truth… Tenzin, please._

"It's been three days," Mako. "She needs to wake up."

Korra hated how his voice broke. She wanted to lift her unconscious hand, wrap her fingers with his and tell him she was right here.

_But I'm not._

So the hand remained still, flat on the sheets.

"And she will."

_How do you know? _

"We can't know that," Mako.

_He's right. He's always right. _

A bark, something soft licked her shoulder.

_Naga, go home. _She wanted to open her eyes, turn to her best friend—set her free with words. A polar bear shouldn't spend its life alone in a temple. It needed air, freedom, to feel snow and chill on its fur.

_Run home girl._

Korra knew she was keeping her here. The thought made her want to cry. Except tears didn't come. She didn't have control over that.

_Not now, maybe never again._

Then the world, the scene she imagined around her unmoving form, blurred behind closed eyelids. The voices faded away, disappeared into shades of a persisting night, a fog which she had been swallowed into. Korra didn't know when or why, but she left the cage that was her, left the body that was.

She slowly opened her eyes.

"Korra," a strong voice. Aang. He sat calmly meditating under the branches of an oak tree. His soft blue tattoos shone in the sunlight brilliantly.

"It's been a while."

"Yes, too long," she smiled. "Where have you been?"

"Around," he motioned for her to take a seat. She did.

"I searched for you," Korra said. _Many times actually,_ but the Spirit World never quite gives you what you want to find.

"And now?"

"I guess I was just looking for someplace to go," she crossed her legs and leaned against the tree, facing at an angle to his side. Small spirits floated around them in vibrant colors. She felt light, like the burden of pain never existed at all.

How long had she carried that load? Once it was gone, well, she had no idea how truly heavy it had been.

"Do you think you've found it?" he said. Aang lifted his head and stared at the blotches of light shining through the petals.

"I don't know," she said. This place was nice, beautiful actually. Better yet, in this world she could walk, feel, and breathe without a second thought.

"You could stay here," Aang said. "If you like."

She sighed, felt the warm sun radiate on her skin. It would be easy, perfect maybe. The lightness made her heart float, high above the concerns of the physical world.

_And yet…_

"I can't." The floating sensation was superficial, nothing compared to what she wanted.

Right now, all she needed was to feel grounded; to wake one morning and not see life spin upside down or explode. The Spirit World changes constantly, time passes within it like nothing.

Korra didn't want to live in nothingness, to have her life become a nonentity.

"I need to fix the world."

"The world isn't really the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"You, me, we're just one person," Aang said.

"The Avatar—," Korra saw a bunny spirit hop out of a bush nearby and disappear into the air. It probably had somewhere better to be.

"Is just one."

"I don't understand. Our job is to mend the world, bring balance."

"It is," Aang said quietly, "But life is difficult, and many times the scale of balance is never achieved. Wan realized that as well, in the end."

"So all this—," she her nails dig into her hands. "Everything that has happened. It means nothing?"

"Sometimes."

Korra shook her head. _That's not possible, can't be._

If that was true, why on earth was she here? Why was she lying comatose on a bed in air Temple Island while she drove her family mad with fear that she might not wake? Why had she taken the poison into her system, sacrificed everything for the sake of the Avatar, the air benders?

She had nothing, if all that didn't matter.

Korra ran a hand over her face, "I'm tired."

"I know," a soft hand touched her shoulder, "and that's okay. We all reach this point."

"Then why do it?" she looked at him. He shrugged.

"Because we have no choice. The Avatar will play its role forever. This is the way of things."

"But I didn't, I failed. I couldn't stop the Red Lotus and now Zaheer is free again."

Aang frowned and let go of her shoulder, "You tried your best."

So he didn't disagree.

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

Korra shook her head and pulled her knees to her chest. So many years she had looked up to the previous Avatars, sought out Aang for guidance, but she had lost the connection before she could get close. Now she was alone. A single Avatar at the head of a new line. An Avatar standing at the precipice of a changing world. Yet still, she saw only darkness; Amon, Vaatu, new dangers, old.

"How can I win?" she whispered. "How can _we _win?"

Aang studied her for a long moment then slowly rose and patted down his long air bender robes. He held out a hand for Korra to take. She hesitated, reached out for it but stopped just before their hands could meet. Then he smiled, and Korra felt relief fill her chest. Not once had she questioned how she came to this place, to him, but she was still certainly glad she had. So she took it, and he lifted her to her feet.

"There is no winning, Korra," Aang said softly. "That's the point, of all of this, of life."

"Sounds pointless then," she muttered.

"In a way, it is, and yet, this is how we must live."

She frowned and rubbed her wrists. For the briefest moment she felt the cool sting of metal chain encircle them. Maybe returning to normal wasn't possible anymore. "Do I have a choice?"

Aang frowned and his eyes flitted to where she fiddled with her wrists. They landed on the splotchy scars dotting her skin.

"Of course you do," he took one arm in his hands and examined the marks. "The poison cannot be removed, at least not what's left of it."

"That's what everyone keeps saying," Korra tried to hide her dismay. She had never thought things would come to this point, at least not so soon. She never imagined the price would be this high. Would she have done things differently, if she had known?

No, probably not.

"Am I going to—," her voice halted. She couldn't finish it. That one word, three letters that she had never worried about once in her life. Yet, since she had gotten sick, it was all she could think of now, all she could feel. That word hung over her like a looming cloud whose downpour hadn't started yet. So she waited, utterly petrified that it might.

Aang seemed to understand. Without a word, he pulled her into a strong embrace. His long arms wrapped around her form and Korra tightly returned the motion. For a second she felt that this was Tenzin and she the young Avatar who had fallen into his arms at the memorial of her predecessor. She leaned her head into his robe and closed her eyes. Maybe it was Aang, who'd come that night, the one who had held her while she cried. Tenzin spoke the same words. His were those of his father.

She hadn't lost the connection after all, at least not completely.

"You have already decided, Korra," he said. "That's why you are here now, because you were looking for help, not somewhere to go."

They separated and Korra rubbed at an eye.

"They say the poison is too strong," she said.

"Well, so are you. In fact, you are probably stronger than me, than anyone who has come before."

"No," she diverted her eyes. "You saved the world, created harmony."

Aang laughed, "If I created such a state of balance, then why do you face imbalance now? No, Korra, I fulfilled a small part, as you will another. In the end, it will all come to the same thing."

She stared at him, he sighed.

"The cycle, Korra, is exactly that. Every one of us must face the challenges of our time and hope for balance."

"So it's not possible?"

Aang's eyes widened, "No, it is, just not in the way the world thinks. You will live with the venom, as the world will live with darkness."

She frowned. Where they stood now, she was barely living with anything at all.

"That is your balance, Korra, finding the equilibrium of dark and light. As well as finding the strength to weigh the scales of darkness with something of the opposite nature.

"This is not a fight either side can win," Aang continued, "But that makes it all the more important to try."

"One Avatar," she muttered, slowly comprehending. "One life."

Aang nodded, "One world, the same cycle."

She felt the air grow thick, the lightness slowly fade away. Aang's figure became blurred. She was leaving the Spirit World, but he hadn't finished yet.

"We are the keepers of balance, the carriers of light," he said, voice echoing through her mind like a tidal wave.

His form wavered, flickered in a soft, dying candle light. Korra reached out for it, desperate to hear his parting message. She felt she was beginning to understand, to see what she was supposed to see, what she should have realized before this all began. Aang smiled softly and nodded, offering a final farewell. Then, just as she thought he would disappear, his lips parted and words slipped forth.

_"__So it is our duty to bear the darkness."_

Then they vanished.

And finally, she felt free, lifted up by the one thing that could weigh against a heavy heart.

_Faith._


	13. Awoken

Awoken

**Tenzin POV. Let me know what you think!**

Tenzin was on his way to breakfast when he heard a crash.

He ran to the origin of the sound and pushed open the door to Korra's room. He felt his heart skip a beat as his eyes fell upon the scene.

Korra was awake, but not lying in the bed where he had expected her to be, where she should have been.

Instead she was standing a few feet away from it, hand wrapped firmly around the glider he had given her a few months ago. The chair was in the corner, toppled over in a heap of metal.

"Korra! What are you doing?" he rushed to her side. Both hands fell on her shoulders as he attempted to guide her back to the bed. Korra shrugged him off and gripped the glider even tighter. He saw the lines of her jaw clench and a bead of sweat roll off the side of her face but she did not yield.

"I'm fine," she held in a grunt of pain as her foot shifted to take another step.

Her legs were shaking, trembling in a dangerous rhythm that Tenzin feared would betray her at any moment. Except Korra barely seemed to notice, she was so focused on walking to the door.

"Stop this," he shook his head furiously. "You need to lie down. Now."

"No," she said. "I can do it."

Tenzin saw the determination in her eyes, and for a moment he was tempted to let her continue, allow Korra to push her limits the way she always had before, but this time he couldn't. The determination was accompanied just as glaringly by pain, and he couldn't stand the sight of his student in such anguish. Not if he could help it.

"Korra, you don't understand," he said, attempting to pull on his sternest expression. "You need to rest, you've been unconscious for some time."

"I know," Korra smiled and patted at his arm with a free hand. It flopped a little, hardly reaching its destination, before falling back to her side. "Don't worry, I can do this."

She was getting closer to the door, Tenzin felt his pulse quicken. Every second she spent standing meant spreading the poison more.

Why did she never listen?

"Korra," he said softly. "You will soon, just not now."

He gripped the glider staff and placed a hand over hers. She did not respond and kept pushing forward. Tenzin stepped in front of his charge and held the staff. It firmly planted on the ground so she couldn't move. Still, she tried.

"You need to let this one go," he said. Her hand was shaking under his and he fought the urge to scoop her up against her will and return her to the bed.

"Korra, let go."

Suddenly her head shot up and an indiscernible expression crossed her face. He frowned. Had he said something wrong?

"I won't, no, I can't," she said while shaking her head. Tenzin heard the words but saw her gaze pass right through and he began to wonder if she was even speaking to him. Her eyes had the slightest glaze.

The staff slipped from his grip, somehow Korra had taken it from him.

"Korra, I am telling you right now to stop," he said as she brushed past. Tenzin felt the blood rush to his face, a mix of fear and frustration. "Did you hear me?"

Korra was at the doorway, staff in hand just peeking out into the hall, but she stopped and turned to look at her mentor. Her head leaned to the side a little, and for the briefest moment, she gave him her signature smirk.

Tenzin held in a small gasp.

Perhaps he'd seen a shadow of a girl that passed coming to the light again. That smirk was all he needed to realize there wasn't a single thing he could say or do to dissuade her from whatever mission she was set on. He had never been able to stop Korra before, not when she really believed in something.

And she wouldn't let him this time either.

He saw her take another step, the staff clicked against the ground.

A smile began to form at the edges of his mouth.

She was determined.

The staff shook in her hand but she held it snug.

She was strong.

Korra stepped into the hall. He watched as her hand twirled in a small motion at her side, gradually air began to circle around her. It started at her feet, tiny puffs of white, and spread until a small but steady flow swirled at her back. Tenzin realized she was using it to keep standing.

He felt tears spring to his eyes. Korra, the fierce fire bender, the beautiful water bender, the stubborn earth bender, had chosen air to help her walk again.

Tenzin thought of his father, how as a boy Tenzin had watched the great air bender, learned from him, sought to become everything Aang had wanted. Every morning he would leave for work, to another country, to help, it didn't matter, just that Tenzin saw the man he admired most in the world face down the greatest threats and succeed.

As a child he had never understood the burden his father held, but he had known that no matter how bad it became, Avatar Aang could handle.

Now, here he was again, with Korra, and she—the only other person in this world whom he had come to admire beyond measure—was walking on her own path, set on something he could not see, a purpose which he was not privy to. Aang had done the same thing, he had smiled then gone about his life like it was nothing.

Korra was not his father, nothing like him really, Tenzin knew that.

And yet… Of all the elements in her palm, she had chosen air.

So Tenzin watched as his student took labored steps, and pride gradually swelled within his chest with every single one.

Korra glanced back at him, misinterpreting the tears that now fell smoothly down his cheeks for concern and her smile faded.

"It's okay," she said between heavy breaths. The staff shifted, in her attempt to reassure Tenzin she forgot about the bending. The air dissipated, halted its steadying course. Korra didn't notice, her gaze was intent on the master standing before her.

"It's okay," She took a step towards him. "It's…"

Tenzin saw it all before she had a chance to finish. Her hand released the staff, her eyes flitted shut, legs swayed, shoulders relaxed, head drifted backwards.

Then she was leaning—falling to the stone floor.

And he was running, faster than perhaps he had ever moved before. Air swirled around his form as he rushed forwards. It pushed him onwards, urged him to the side of his student in a blur of motion.

His arm reached around her shoulder and braced against it just as her body started to descend, another wrapped over her side. He felt the wind slowly drift her form into his arms, breaking the fall completely. Her head fell onto his shoulder.

Without a word, he lowered her to the ground. He sat and embraced her shaking arms, pulling her close.

Tenzin pushed away a few loose strands of hair while her eyes opened and closed as she struggled between staying awake or slipping away again. He desperately hoped she chose the former. Then she slowly came to, and eyes peaked open. They caught with his.

"Aang," she said with a small smile. "You're back?"

Tenzin felt he couldn't stop the tears any longer, they overwhelmed him, but he attempted a smile for her.

"No, it's me, Tenzin."

She blinked and squinted to get a better look, "_Master _Tenzin." She smiled happily and leaned against his robes, "How did you get in the Spirit World?"

What was she talking about? She was disoriented, confused, he figured.

"We are in air temple island, Korra," he said. She shifted in his arms and glanced around. A thin grin graced her exhausted features.

"Guess we are… Whatddya know?" she chuckled. Tenzin frowned. Had she hit her head?

He thought for a moment of telling her she needed to rest, to take time, to not try walking again, but he knew he would be wasting his breath. Korra would heal the only way she knew how.

Who was he to try and stop her?

"How many was that?" she said. Her brow wrinkled.

"Korra, are you in pain?" Tenzin replied, he wasn't sure if he should be alarmed or simply happy that she was still awake.

"Tenzin, how many?"

"How many what?"

She lifted a shaky hand to point at the door.

"Last time," she started, "I only managed three." Her breaths came short, "Just. Then. How. Many?"

_Steps,_ Tenzin glanced down hallway. Almost four times what she had barely been able to make just days earlier. In all his worrying, he hadn't noticed how far they'd traveled. He couldn't help but smile.

"More, so many more than last time," he said. "You did well, Korra."

She sighed contentedly and her eyes slid half shut, "He said I could… but I didn't know for certain."

"Who did?" Tenzin gently shook her shoulder to keep her awake. He didn't want her drifting into another perpetual sleep on his watch. "Hey, who said that?"

"Aang," her eyes closed. "I can live with it, he said I could."

He felt the bliss pass over her like a soothing wave. "He said I could."

Slowly, she relaxed in his arms.

"Couldn'ta' known," her head rolled to the side. Her words were melding together, Tenzin had to lean in to hear.

"But now I do."

Tenzin didn't have time to question what she was talking about because he suddenly felt it was of the utmost importance to keep the girl awake. So he shook her a little harder and urged her to stay conscious. Eventually her eyes opened again. It took her a few moments to reacquaint herself with the surroundings while Tenzin guided her back.

"You saw my father?" his voice was soft, he feared she hadn't heard, but she nodded.

"Yup," she said. "That dude's a smooth talker, ya know?"

Tenzin chuckled and wiped away a few tears, "I know what you mean."

He took a minute to compose himself again while Korra waited patiently in the realms between sleep and consciousness, every now and then he urged her awake again. Yet, when finally it seemed he would lose the battle, Tenzin sighed and held the young Avatar he had known since she was just a child, and silently watched as her eyes drifted shut, seemingly for the last time.

"Tenzin?" her voice broke though.

"Yes?"

"You were right. Thank you," she muttered, words slowing with every passing second. Then she was asleep, and Tenzin felt a sigh escape him.

He lightly hugged her, then moved so she could lie flat on the floor. He rose and took her in his arms.

In minutes they were back in the room and she was resting beneath the covers. Tenzin looked for Naga, who sat dutifully waiting in the corner.

He glanced at the figure sleeping, then back at her polar bear dog. Both rested peacefully.

Tenzin was just about to close the door when he thought saw a something move in the room. The air, it was circling around and filling the shadows with substance. Tenzin thought he smelled the slightest hint of sandalwood.

It could have just been a draft, but the window was shut.

He rubbed his eyes and breathed it in, remembering his tattooing ceremony, how his father had been the one to bend the air around him and fill the room with incense. Tenzin had never been happier.

Now, here they were, and Tenzin could still feel his father's presence. He was here, in the drafty room, he filled it without form, without hands to guide the wind, and yet Tenzin knew it could be no other. The wind lightly brushed his skin, filling him with a sense of relief and peace which Tenzin had not felt in quite some time.

He closed his eyes and saw his father's face, saw his smile.

Perhaps he had never left.


	14. Duty

Duty

**Hope you enjoy!**

"Happiness is the natural flower of duty,"

- Phillips Brooks

Lin Beifong, the much too busy Chief of Police, was having a bad day.

Fingers wrapped tightly around a ceramic, standard issue coffee mug as she sat brooding over her desk. She glared at the mug, studied the empty space where the energy-giving liquid should have been, but wasn't, then pushed it away and returned her death stare to the broken contraption in the corner of the room. The top was off and a small note attached at its base.

_"Out of Order, sorry for inconvenience"_

- _Republic City P.D._

Someone had knocked it over while she was off shift, and she'd come in early morning only to find that note and spend the rest of the day… _Coffee-less._

Lin shot a look out her open door and down the hall of working cops. Her eyes lingered on a boy in his early twenties with splotches of dark brown hair; the same one who kept sending furtive glances in the direction of her office like he was afraid she would come bursting forth in a flying fury. He was near the top of her list of suspects; just above the janitor with the crooked eye and a step below one of the lazy detectives.

No one had fessed to the crime yet, and technically she couldn't fire anyone even if they had. Still, she could always try.

However, today Lin didn't have time to find the culprit of such domestic coffee violence, there had been a number of protests in Republic City that they had been trying to maintain as well as reports of growing unrest in the southern parts of city.

Her eyes fell on one such report; a small group had been apprehended for vandalizing government buildings. They had come from the poorer sectors and supported the growing disorder in Ba Sing Se. Their leader had claimed to be a Red Lotus sympathizer.

Lin sighed and rubbed her brow.

Even if the group really was nowhere near on the same league as Zaheer and his former gang, the news had been disconcerting, at best

Earlier that morning it had been her obligation to call the island to relay the latest updates. Of course, Tenzin had answered the phone, she had explained, and he had thanked her, then assured her—once again—that the island and all its occupants were quite safe.

Still, she had heard the sigh. Tenzin was worried. As for Lin? Well, she was just having a bad day and the knot in the pit of her stomach, which she'd had all morning since the first fresh news came about more 'terrorists' popping up, did absolutely nothing to help.

"Chief?" An officer appeared at her door, she straightened in her seat and motioned for him to enter.

"Yeah?"

"We found something," he handed her a small manila folder. "The leader of the radicals we arrested yesterday, he's talking now."

Lin opened the folder, surveyed the lines of conversation from the interrogation session. All she saw was empty text, lines of questions and vague answers. Her eyes flitted back to the broken coffee machine.

"What of it?"

The officer quickly shuffled the papers to the end of the folder and held out one sheet to her.

"He didn't say much, but he did give us a name," he continued, "Phray."

"Who is he?" Lin stared at the words on paper and frowned. _Phray, _did she know any Phray? No, probably not.

"We don't know yet, we haven't been able to match him with any criminal databases, but the leader said he was a part of their organization."

So there were even more, great. With all these new 'Red Lotus' groups, it made her job of finding the real one near impossible.

"Do we think this man is a risk?"

The officer's brow furrowed and he looked at the ground, he seemed to think for a moment. Lin waited, then didn't.

"Spit it out, kid. Considered dangerous or not?"

The officer stiffened but nodded, and Lin felt the knot in her stomach grow even tighter.

"From what we retrieved, we believe he is a skilled bender," he paused. Lin began to wonder what made him hesitate so. She had taught all her officers to be better than that, to operate under intense pressure and never yield. Yet here was one of them, sheepishly unable to answer a simple question.

"And?"

"The man we arrested, he said Jorden would be the one to 'finish the job'," the officer eyed her warily. "Sir, we believe this is another threat on the Avatar."

Lin's hands clenched involuntarily, she smoothly hid them under the desk.

_Show nothing_, she was the Chief.

All her officers looked up to her, they couldn't see the doubt she hid within.

So instead she stared at the name, scowled at it actually, until she heard the man cough to get her attention again.

"We'll look into it, Chief."

Lin nodded and was about to dismiss him when her eyes fell on the two words following the suspect's name. Water bender… Phray… Highly skilled.

The knot seized painfully, threatened to tear her apart with a rush of anxiety.

She stood abruptly. The chair fell back in a loud crash and, before her officer could ask what was wrong, Lin Beifong rushed out of the room and into the fray of on duty cops.

"Someone get me a line to Air Temple Island!" she yelled. Her voice sounded foreign in her own throat; so demanding but controlled, professional, nothing like the terror which she felt inside.

The entire room of bustling sound fell into a rapid silence. There must have been over fifty blank stares, fifty cops doing nothing. She rushed over to the nearest desk.

"Now!"

The man jumped and proceeded with all haste to dial the temple number. The silence persisted.

The phone didn't even ring.

The officer lowered it to the receiver.

"The line's dead," his eyes were wide, it seemed everyone in the room was only beginning to understand.

It took all her effort to just keep a straight face, to not show the sudden rush of fear that had blossomed in her chest. She paused for a moment to think, to run over every name, every detail she could remember. Phray, Tenzin had mentioned the name once, but just in passing. Lin wished, prayed she was wrong. Except the same memory resurfaced every time. She saw a man in dark blue and white, standing off to the side next to one of her own officers. He had a normal face, looked just like the others. He didn't stand out because she had expected him to be there. Protecting the Avatar, that was his duty.

Phray was a White Lotus.

And the line to the air temple was dead.

How could she have missed it?

"Chief," Mako suddenly appeared. His face etched with the same concern she always saw in the young man's face whenever the temple was mentioned. "What's wrong?"

Lin put on the mask of duty and moved past him, rounding up a number of officers to her side all at once. The ones on the island didn't know yet. She shot Mako a look when he didn't immediately follow.

"Come on, we don't have time. I'll explain on the way," then they were out of the station, and riding to the bay.

Despite urging the driver to go faster, the police raft moved agonizingly slow in its travel across the water. Lin tried to control the pounding of her heart in her chest. She could hear Mako, one of her youngest officers, tapping his foot on the deck. Neither could wait a second more, but the darn boat wouldn't go any quicker.

"She's gonna be alright," Mako was saying. Lin wasn't certain he was even talking to her. "Right?"

"Of course," her voice cracked just a little, but thankfully no one noticed. "There's a chance this could all just be a mistake. At most we might end up simply spooking Tenzin."

Normally, she would have laughed at the thought of the master air bender unnerved, but not today. Not when there was so much at stake. It was her job to protect the Avatar, Lin's hand tightened over the railing. No, it was her job to protect Korra.

Spirits knew she wouldn't screw up this time.

"I just—," Mako started. "I have a feeling, in my gut."

Lin couldn't bring herself to tell him she did too, that something had been trying to warn her all day. It would only make him more upset, and right now that was the last thing they needed.

They swarmed the island in a flurry of sound and rushing boots, immediately alerting about half its residents, who came quickly running into the courtyard. Mako instantly separated from the group and disappeared to find his friend.

Tenzin appeared out of nowhere and ran to her side.

"What is it? What has happened?"

Lin surveyed the courtyard, "We think one of the White Lotus guards is a Zaheer sympathizer."

Tenzn couldn't contain his shock, or his fury. Lin saw the shade of his face darken.

"Which one?"

"A water bender named Phray." Her pulse quickened at the sight of recognition on his features. "Where is he?"

Tenzin ran a hand over his face, "I can't believe it—Phray… I don't understand."

"Well get used to the idea, because we need to find him," she didn't mean for her voice to sound so rough, but she had a job to do. Every second either Korra or Phray remained un-located was a second wasted.

"If I remember correctly, he would be at the north side, by the bison stables," Tenzin said quickly.

Lin yelled for a group to head to the stables. Her officers didn't hesitate, "And Korra?"

She saw Tenzin's eyes widen, "Korra wanted to practice walking. I think Asami Sato went with her."

"We'll check the stables first, then go from there," Lin was about to walk away when she caught Tenzin's expression. She tentatively lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine."

He nodded quickly, then moved to join her in the search.

Neither wanted to really say what they thought. To do so would make it real.

As they grew closer to the stables, sounds of fighting hit Lin's ears and she hastened her pace, rushed at a deafening speed to the door, past a few metal benders who were just appearing to the scene, faster than Tenzin, than all the others. Until she stood inside the dusty barn, weapon raised and ready.

But what she found unraveled the tenseness in her stomach, soothed over the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm her.

Korra was fine, well, sort of. The floor was a disheveled mess of uprooted earth and mud, signs of a tense fight, and yet, asides from a thin cut on her forehead, the young Avatar who had more grit than even Lin Beifong herself, seemed unharmed. She was half sitting, half lying on the floor trying to catch her breath. The Sato girl kneeled at her side, arm draped over her shoulder in a silent comfort.

Lin saw the chunks of earth that had been thrown everywhere, piles of hay blown and spread over the floor. Somehow, despite her condition, Korra had put up quite a fight.

Lin grinned. Even poisoned and in a wheelchair that girl was tough as nails.

As for the White Lotus traitor, he was lying on his stomach, face down in the mud. Pristine white robes smothered in dark brown stains. His hand pounded on the dirt, but he couldn't move, couldn't stand no matter how hard he tried.

That was probably in part because Naga was sitting on him.

Not just lightly, but full weight. All the while Phray growled and cursed, Naga's tongue lolled out happily, like he was just another stack of hay which she had chosen to take up residence on.

Between the polar bear and the Avatar, Lin realized the man never had a chance.

Eventually, the metal benders did manage to retrieve the struggling Phray from under Naga's haunches and arrest him.

Lin surveyed the scene, watched quietly as Korra was joined by Tenzin, his children, and her other friends; watched as they embraced her, gathered around in one giant heap of mushiness, ridiculous smiling and laughter. Somehow the events had climaxed into something comical, even Korra was chuckling when Bolin started telling jokes about how they should have just let Naga sit on Zaheer.

Lin almost laughed, _it certainly would have expedited matters._

Meanwhile, the esteemed Chief of Police kept a safe distance, just out of reach of all the hugging and the laughing, but all the while stayed close enough to watch as the young girl was surrounded by those who loved her. Lin stayed just close enough by to notice the kid's tired face draw into a relaxed smile, and her breaths grow even, carefree alongside the safety and company of others.

For a moment, Lin wanted to be beside them, a part of their contented, almost childish happiness, but Lin was too busy. She had done her job, she had kept the Avatar safe for now.

Time to go back to work.

A wet nose nudged her in the side and Lin looked up to see Naga beside her.

"Hi, umm… doggy?" she patted the polar bears head, realizing how stiff the motion was.

Naga huffed and nudged her again, Lin was pushed forward, towards the growing group of friends and family.

"Excuse me!" she huffed right back, pushing against the animals massive head.

In the end, of the two of them Naga was more stubborn, and Lin soon found herself just at the edge of the circle. Eyes turned to her, laughter settled down to a happy silence.

She crossed her arms defensively and looked away, then pulled at her metal collar. No one spoke.

"Well, I'll be going now," she tried walking away but Naga blocked her path. What was up with that thing?

"Korra your dog is acting weird," she said, turning to the water tribe girl.

"She's trying to thank you," Korra said, who sat beside her young officer. For a brief moment, Lin noticed how the fire bender's hand was subtly wrapped over the Avatar's, fingers intertwined at their sides.

Lin felt herself smiling. How had she once loathed this girl? How could she have pushed her away and blamed her for the city's troubles when she wanted everything Lin ever had?

"Seems bossy to me," Lin grunted, but the smile did not fade. Korra simply nodded, then said something to Asami and slowly the ring shifted, a space opened up for her to sit.

Lin tried groaning, she didn't want to be any part of this 'love fest' or to laugh alongside these kids or Tenzin's family like the danger was passed, because it wasn't, and Lin had to always be ready for when it came.

But then again, so did Korra.

As the Chief caught the Avatar's expectant stare, she knew Korra had always felt the same. So many lives rested on their shoulders, so they could never let up for a second. Lin had lived with that belief since she had joined the force, since her mother had become Chief.

And yet, here was this kid, the Avatar, the protector of the world, sitting amongst her family like there wasn't a care in the world; like there wasn't a mad man hiding out there, just waiting for his chance to end the cycle of Avatars.

Somehow, Korra was happy enough where she was.

Lin was pushed towards the open seat.

Korra laughed when Naga urged her forwards and Lin felt the knot in her gut loosen and set her free.

So she joined them.


	15. Hair

**Here's a short story about, well, the hair. Asami PO.V**

**Once again, sorry about the confusion with the story guys. **

"Korra, are you sure?" Asami Sato stood, hand half reaching for the long, thin pair of cutters on the table.

Her eyes darted cautiously between the water tribe girl and the table, where everything they needed was laid out neatly; expectantly waiting for someone to take hold and finally do what Asami had been pushing off for hours. What she had tried to avoid since the moment Korra came to her, asking for her help.

For a brief moment, Asami had thought it was an excellent idea. A little trim could be good for her, even if it was only a small change.

Instead here she was, standing behind her friend as she stared in the mirror. Korra's hand was wrapped tightly over the long mass of beautiful brown hair. Her hand barely fit over all of it, but Korra held it up and motioned with another hand to where she wanted.

She just hadn't expected this much.

"Yes, just cut it off."

Asami hesitated for a moment before finally grabbing the scissors. They were cold to the touch, and she wondered why she was so reluctant. This was Korra's choice, right? Why should it bother her if her friend decided to make this change?

"Asami," Korra turned in her chair, offering a supportive smile. "If you don't do it, I will, and trust me, I don't think either of us wants to see what that would look like."

"O—okay," she gripped the scissors tighter and held the thick hair in one hand.

Korra turned and looked to the mirror again, except Asami knew she wasn't looking at herself.

Korra was looking through it, past the reflective surface. She didn't hang on every second, every image of her old life. Maybe she already saw what was coming, that would explain the disinterested look, the look that said '_go ahead, chop it all off, I don't need it anymore._'

What had changed?

Asami took a small breath. If it was even possible, she was more concerned by the Avatar's sudden desire to alter her usual look than even Korra herself. She frowned, ever since Korra had woken up days ago, she had been different, more driven maybe, but mainly just… different, and Asami wished just to see her old friend again. The thought that Korra didn't want to bring who she was back, well, it was more than a little disconcerting.

The scissors shook slightly, but Asami steadied her hand.

Korra wanted a change.

The scissors closed in, cut deep into the long hair.

She glanced at her friend's reflection, silently asking if she should continue, Korra urged her on with a small smile.

"It's just hair," Korra said softly.

Asami stopped mid cut, uncertain why her words had struck so loudly, interrupted her fog of doubts. After a moment, she nodded her head furiously and took a few more cuts, less reluctantly.

"You're right," she said. "I guess we're all just going to miss your little hair loopy things."

Korra chuckled and glanced at the table where the small blue water tribe garments were set aside, but didn't respond.

Asami had the feeling she would too.

And yet, the Avatar did not stop her friend from cutting it all away.

An hour later, Asami lowered the scissors, brushed off her hands. She pulled a small hand mirror for Korra to get a closer look. Korra ran a hand through the significantly shorter mass.

At first she didn't respond, and Asami was reminded of a time long ago, months past, when she had seen the saddest smile, heard the most heartbreaking whisper of words. Asami had spent hours covering up the bruises, the bagged eyes, the pallid color, all for Jinora's ceremony. Yet, Korra had looked at herself for only the briefest second and turned away, ashamed, pained, saddened for so many reasons that she had still yet to reveal to anyone.

"It's great," Korra didn't look away. Her smile widened, Asami felt joy rush through her heart at the sight. "Really, it is. Thanks."

"Actually, it suits you," Asami grinned, admiring her own handiwork. She would definitely miss the old look, but she realized how much her friend had needed something like this.

"You think so?" Korra turned to her. Asami felt she already knew the answer.

Korra didn't need to look like her old self. She just needed to be happy, and Asami would do anything to make sure she was. Everyone would, no matter what.

This was as good a start as any.

"Yeah, I do."


End file.
